


Sixteen Reasons (Why I Love You)

by PuddlesofPupcake



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/F, One Shot Collection, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2018-10-01 05:44:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10181960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuddlesofPupcake/pseuds/PuddlesofPupcake
Summary: Based on the 1960 song Sixteen Reasons by Connie Stevens.Patsy and Delia have so many reasons to love each other, each one adding another dimension to their relationship.





	1. Sixteen Reasons Why I Love You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [danversdaydream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/danversdaydream/gifts).



> The lyrics that these one shots will follow... (If posting them here is illegal will someone please let me know, I have no idea)
> 
> Disclaimer: I own neither the characters of Call the Midwife or the song Sixteen Reasons, nor do I profit from their use.

_(Sixteen reasons)_

_Why I (why I) love you_

_(One) the way you hold my hand_

_(Two) your laughing eyes_

_(Three) the way you understand_

_(Four) your secret sighs_

_They're all part of sixteen reasons why I (why I) love you_

_(Five) the way you comb your hair_

_(Six) your freckled nose_

_(Seven) the way you say you care_

_(Eight) your crazy clothes_

_That's just half of sixteen reasons why I (why I) love you_

_(Nine) snuggling in the car_

_(Ten) your wish upon a star_

_(Eleven) whispering on the phone_

_(Twelve) your kiss when we're alone_

_(Thirteen) the way you thrill my heart_

_(Fourteen) your voice so neat_

_(Fifteen) you say we'll never part_

_(Sixteen) our love's complete_

_Those are all of sixteen reasons why I (why I) love you_

_(Sixteen reasons) Why I (why I) love you_

 

I think this song is very pretty, so I would very much recommend listening to it 


	2. The Way You Hold My Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patsy has her reservations about Gateways, but how can she deny Delia?

"...and I think maybe on Thursday night we're both off call. So maybe we could go then! Oh, Pats I have the most perfect dress I have to go check it still fits."

Patsy's favourite nurse excitedly scurried back in doors and left her girlfriend sitting in the garden, finishing the last few drags of her cigarette whist watching the full moon. She hadn't seen Delia so excited about something in so long yet she couldn't at all get comfortable with the idea of Gateways club. There was something about the idea of having to segregate themselves, giving up her precious alone time with Delia so they could spend an evening with the other freaks of society in their designated place. No thank you. Patsy didn't need to be surrounded by other 'women like her' to feel validated in her love for Delia. Although she did have to admit, dancing in their heads had its limits. With a sigh, she stood on the end of her cigarette and tossed it into the compost heap, preparing herself to go tell Delia that it was out of the question.

Patsy began speaking the moment she entered Delia's room, trying to get it all out before she had to look at Delia's face. "Look Deels, I was thinking about what you just said and-"

The midwife was cut off as her girlfriend turned around and she was forced to look at her, rendering her speechless. The nurse's uniform lay discarded on the bed, alongside a small pile of bobby pins. Delia stared at Patsy insistently, silently demanding her to continue her sentence without ruining her hope. But she didn't know how to as Delia's hair was hanging softly half way down her back, the turquoise and gold of her dress shimmering in the moonlight that peeked through the curtains. Patsy could only think of the mermaids in beautifully illustrated picture books that she was sent at boarding school, and God knew Delia's eyes were the siren song that were going to pull her to that club.

"It means a lot to you, doesn't it?"

."It means the world Patsy. But if you don't want to I can't force you." The smile on Delia's face was always going to be Patsy's downfall. She would have moved mountains to keep it shining.

The redhead gently placed a palm on her girlfriend's flushed cheek.

"Thursday. It's a date."

* * *

The night in question was freezing cold but as far as Patsy could tell Delia didn't feel any of it, practically skipping down the street in her gorgeous dress and her hair pulled back into a pony tail that swung from side to side with each springy step. That's what Patsy was trying to concentrate on as the knot of anxiety twisted and turned in her abdomen. The idea of being at Gateways had not grown on her any more in the last few day, she had just found herself obsessing about the idea of really admitting her difference. Sure she had admitted it to herself by being with Delia, but this was a level of self acceptance she wasn't sure she was ready for. Being with Delia allowed herself to view herself as simply a woman with a predilection that needed to be hidden. This club confronted her with something else, a label, a subculture. And besides, what if a patient saw her entering? Risking her career over a few hours of dancing seemed foolish to say the least.

Before Patsy knew it, they had reached the door of the club. The Welsh woman seemed to finally admit her own nerves, taking a moment to catch a few deep breaths once her hand hit the handle of the door. She waited for Patsy's smile of approval, before pulling her inside.

They were greeted by a woman with short swept back hair, clad in a tuxedo. The sudden rush of voices and music threatened to tip Patsy over the edge, her head rushing with the fears she had been fixating on for days. But she couldn't ruin it for the woman beside her. Delia buzzed with the energy of the place, clearly in her element. It was almost impossible to believe that she had resisted the pull of the place, Patsy couldn't help wonder how long she had known about it before she'd dared to bring it to up to her. And now she felt like she had to escape, had to run out and leave Delia alone it was too much for her.

"Hey." Delia had her eyes fixed solely on Patsy, wide and soft. "You okay?"

Patsy nodded more frantically than she should've done. Her girlfriend intertwined her fingers with hers and pulled her to a more isolated corner of the dance floor. The music hardly reached them, and the rush of the bar seemed far away.

"What's wrong, love?" Delia whispered, pulling herself up onto tiptoes to reach the taller woman's ear. There was something about the way Delia held her hand, fingers interlocking and her thumb delicately brushing over her skin that grounded Patsy. The walls started to stand still and she could start to see the room through Delia's eyes, surrounded by nothing but shared love and freedom. Now she understood. Upbeat jazz started to trail off the stereo, replaced by lyrics that were familiar to Patsy's ears. 'I love how your eyes close, whenever you kiss me...'

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

Patsy placed a hand on her petite girlfriend's waist and began directing her in the beginnings of a dance, taking the lead out of a habit formed from being the tallest girl auditioning for plays at an all-girls boarding school. She grinned to herself wondering what those girls would have thought about the way nerdy Patience Mount was smoothly manoeuvring Delia around the dance floor. Elegance and grace, Patsy felt their bodies move perfectly in time to the twirling melody of the song.

"Patsy. Will you bloody stop stepping on my feet?"

Mischievous eyes caught Patsy's, providing a reality check at the true extent of her dancing abilities and giving her a stark reminder of why her fellow pupils would roll their eyes and smirk at being partnered with her. But she knew Delia was teasing her, the easy joking between two women so in love, how could Patsy feel uncomfortable? "Come on, let's go get a drink. At least until my feet have recovered, Mount." Delia turned to seek out the bar, winking back at Patsy before pulling her back towards the hustle and bustle of the main area.

* * *

"And then, my mother walked in!"

The woman with twisted snow coloured hair squealed with laughter, clutching the arm of her olive-skinned lover whose eyes remained fixated on her. Patsy tried to remember the names of this couple her and Delia had befriended at the bar. Karen and Jen? Katie and Jane? Whatever, she swore she had known who they were three whiskys ago. She could now admit how wrong her preconceptions were about this place. These weren't women who were being segregated as freaks, they were choosing to spend their evening surrounded by those who understood the essence of who they were when so many others were so keen to turn away in disgust. She could keep her fingers interlocked with her beautiful girlfriend, physically confess her love without fear of repercussions. A lifetime connected to Delia at Gateways would not be enough.

Alas, in a world where shifts start early and nuns sleep lightly, Patsy did not have a lifetime. As the clock on the wall behind the bartender's head indicated the time was nearing 1 AM, hugs were exchanged with KarenJen/KatieJane and the pair dragged themselves out the door and into the wintry air.

"Pats," Delia whispered. "You're still holding my hand."

Patsy's eyes scanned the dark path, finding it entirely empty of the inhabitants of Poplar. "I know I am."


	3. Your Laughing Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Delia wants after a long day at work is some sympathy from her girlfriend, but somehow that seems to be quite impossible.

Nurse Busby was a woman who was dedicated to her career. She had sacrificed escapades with her friends at school to shut herself into her room to study her notes on the cardiac system, hell bent on getting herself a place at nursing school. Once she arrived there she knew she had found her home, she had escaped the tiny Pembrokshire village she felt suffocating her and followed her passion all the way to London. Caring for people was what she did best, whether she was crying alongside a young woman who just found out her cancer had returned or she was fetching water and bed pans to elderly men who would smile like she was Florence Nightingale herself. In short, Delia loved her job. But she would have been lying through her teeth if she pretended that it didn't carry the burden of mind numbing stress, and that the bad days never came. Once upon a time, Delia would find herself heading straight to her bed in the Nurses' Home every time a patient didn't make it,or if a male doctor blinded by his own airs and graces implied (or outright stated) that she was utterly incompetent. Solace was only to be found with her quilt quite firmly placed over her head and perhaps one of the paper bags of pear drops that were quite often hiding in the drawer of her bedside table.

  
When Delia met Nurse Mount, she found herself someone who not only understood the pressures she lived under every single day but also genuinely cared about putting a smile back on her face. In her first real relationship, Delia assumed that she had gained a shoulder to cry on after a tough day at work, someone who would offer sympathetic sighs in all the right places of a story and perhaps lend her one of the cotton handkerchiefs embroidered P.E.M. At the very least, she believed that a girlfriend would at least manage to maintain a straight face as she recited the day's grievances. Of course at this point she hadn't entirely gotten to know Patsy.

  
The first time that Delia had discovered the way her girlfriend would deal with her most stressful days was New Year's Day 1958. Delia had spent the entire day surrounded by foolish men brought in with injuries incurred through excessive celebrations, still inebriated to the point of deeming it acceptable to grab and grope at any of the young nurses who were there to attend to them. Patsy had somehow had the good fortune of her day off falling on that day, whereas by the time Delia's shift ended at 9am she had been on her feet almost non-stop for 10 hours. She had barely been aware of the walk back to her room, but she couldn't even begin to explain her relief upon smelling high end cigarette smoke as soon as she cracked open the door to her room.

  
"Delia! Darling, happy new year!" Patsy placed down her cigarette in the ashtray she usually kept hidden in Delia's wardrobe. She hopped up off of Delia's bed, sweeping a strand of straw coloured hair out of her eyes as she rose.

  
Delia wanted to get excited too, rejoice in the fact that 1958 was her, a year with Patsy, but she was simply too exhausted. All she could bring herself to muster was a weak smile and a delicate kiss on Patsy's cheek, before flopping down onto her bed. The blonde found a place beside her, tucking her legs alongside hers like they were cut from the same jigsaw.

  
"How was work Deels?" Patsy murmured, no need to speak up when they were pressed so close to one another. 

  
Delia turned around so her eyes were focused on Patsy's, all she had been looking forward to seeing for such a long day. All day she had spent surviving on the belief that looking into such a shade of blue was the secret to restoring her happiness, but as she began recounting the events of her day to Patsy she could feel her lips beginning to tremble.

  
"It has just been so long. All night long I've been listening to men whistling at me and all the other girls and the doctors just don't care one bit. And Doctor Tressle went ballistic because I mixed up Mr Reynolds' and Mr Francis' notes when I was on my rounds. It's been the worst New Year's ever."

  
Patsy paused for a moment before slipped out of the bed and turned her back to Delia, making short sharp sniffle noises that sounded far too much like crying for Delia's comfort.

  
"Pats?"

  
The blonde turned around to face her girlfriend, hand clasped over her mouth to conceal not sobs but laughter.

"Oh Delia, I'm so so sorry I know you've had an awful day but Reynolds and Francis? Doesn't that mean you mixed up the words tonsils and testicles?"

  
Patsy's giggles by now had erupted over the surface,much to the annoyance of her girlfriend. Delia found herself livid, she had one of the most tiresome shifts of her entire career and yet here was Patsy entertaining herself at her expense thanks to her encyclopedic knowledge of patient complaints.

  
"For goodness sake, Patsy! All I wanted was a little bit of sym-"

  
Delia was cut off as Patsy sat back down next to her, forcing the Welshwoman to look her girlfriend in the face. As she rested a hand on Delia's leg the teasing glint in her cobalt eyes was still very much clear, even as she bit her lip in an earnest attempt to keep a serious facial expression. The matter of principle was almost enough to suppress her own laughter, but it was impossible not to share in Patsy's smile.

  
"Well," Delia mused. "At least Doctor noticed before Mr Reynolds went to go get his 'tonsils' removed."

  
"Would have been quite the surprise for poor Mrs Reynolds, I suppose." Patsy mused following a drag on her cigarette, before dissolving into fits of giggles that Delia managed to join in this time. The type of laughter that left them clutching at each other and gasping for air. The type of laughter that made Delia feel like she was being re inflated after a night that forced into into such a grim mood. The type of laughter that is referred to when it is considered the best medicine.

  
After that morning, it became an accepted part of their relationship. Whenever Delia came to Patsy following a tricky day, she would always manage to spin a situation in order to figure out the lighter side to force Delia to laugh with her. The way Patsy's eyes lit up and her mouth twisted into a wry smile as soon as she found the humour in a bad day was enough to remind Delia that surely it couldn't all be bad. Patsy had told her years later that the hardest part about seeing her broken and confused in that hospital bed in 1960 was knowing that there was no way in hell that she could manage to laugh about it.


	4. The Way You Understand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the late 1950s, it's very easy for a young woman to feel alone in her feelings.

Girls had been the absolute nightmare and the utter joy of Patsy's life so far. Girls everywhere and throughout time. The little girls who had lived down the road from her when she was small, toothy grins and beaming eyes. Teenage girls at her boarding school who rolled up their plaid skirts and unbuttoned their collars to entice local boys. Women she had attended nursing school with who had kind hands and could spend hours fixing their hair until it was just so. Patsy had always been so hyper-aware of the female species. She of course wasn't attracted to each of these women she had been in contact with, she was just utterly distracted by the notion of females in the abstract. An attraction that she couldn't even begin to get her head around.

  
She was not a naive soul. From the moment her peers began to giggle about the young men at their partner school and had started hiding magazines featuring Marlon Brando and William Holden under the desks, Patsy knew she was different. When her friends whispered about the things men and women were supposed to want from one another, she could not see any real appeal. At first she had assumed that she was what they called a 'late bloomer' and her desire for boys would soon develop. Until her closest friend Janie Matthews, with hair the colour of the copper wire they used in physics lessons and eyes the deepest hue of English summer blackberries, got her first boyfriend. Sure, Larry was a laugh and he looked at Janie like she was responsible for the world continuing to spin, but Patsy found herself seething with rage. There was only so long she could pretend to herself that this was protective friendship, or a little bit of jealousy over losing her best friend's attention. But there was eventually no way of denying the way accidentally Patsy ended up watching the curves of Janie's lips as they snuck behind the dorms for cigarettes, or the fact she felt her mind wandering towards her when the other girls started playing their sappy love records. She thought about telling her how she felt but how could she? How could she expect anyone else to understand what she could barely get her head around herself?

  
Nursing school was no easier for her, still struggling to figure out precisely what her feelings meant. What she was absolutely sure of was that it had to be repressed as far as possible.

  
"No dark secrets girls. Not if you value your lives."

  
Hatred rang in her ears after that first lesson. Deny yourself, Nurse Mount, pretend to be something you can't even be. They didn't understand she wasn't a predator, they didn't understand that people like her were only here to be nurses, and that Patsy was a damn good nurse. She resigned herself to not being understood, she'd keep her mouth closed and her head down. At least for the foreseeable future anyway.

  
This was possible up until her first year as a qualified nurse at The London. That was when a pretty brunette caught her eye, walking down the corridor with an easy bounce in her step that made Patsy sure she must have a rather lovely song playing in her mind. Her smile was ever present and she was sure to offer a cheery good morning to everyone she passed, even the stiff faced doctors couldn't resist a tight smile in return. The older nurse had taken to calling her Wales in her head, that sweet accent was far too pretty for her not to take note. Patsy knew she was done for the first time she heard the words,

"I'm Delia Busby."

  
And she knew she was ruined when she heard herself say,

  
"Nurse Mount. I mean Patience. Well, I mean Patsy." The words tumbled out of her

  
Patsy could see Wales, well, Delia, take a moment to process her.

  
"Nurse Mount-Patience-Patsy." She paused for a moment. "I like it."

  
* * *

  
How was a girl like Patsy supposed to uphold her vow to not acknowledge her desires with a girl like Delia around? It had been three months since the 'Nurse Mount-Patience-Patsy' incident and the pair had been established as firm friends. They would sneak into each other's rooms at night, taking it in turns to provide chocolate or an illicit bottle of Johnny Walker. Patsy loved her company, Delia had a filthy sense of humour that thrilled the girl raised with the airs and graces of high society. She found herself completely wrapped up in her company, the very best friend she had ever had.

  
But Patsy couldn't help notice that Delia brought back feelings from long ago, although Janie Matthews couldn't hold a candle to this nurse. Watching Delia's oak hair fall down her back as she pulled out each of the bobby pins that held it tightly all day was almost a spiritual experience, and whenever they brushed hands it felt like white hot electricity running through every nerve. And, oh God, the way that awful uniform clung to the soft outlines of Delia's figure? Patsy was so damn queer.

  
Delia would never understand. Now that she had acknowledged what was going on so much of Patsy wanted to tell the younger woman precisely how she felt, pluck the stars from the sky to give to her in place of trying to explain her emotions. She wanted Delia to know, what were affections if they weren't expressed? But even the slightest inclination of her immoral preferences would cost her the career she'd been destined for since she was a broken little girl, and it would cost her Delia. Always better to keep her mouth closed and her heart quiet.

  
* * *

  
"Hey Pats!" Delia passed the redhead in the waiting room. "Do you fancy a game of cards tonight? 7:30?". She didn't bother waiting for an answer, scurrying off towards wherever she was required.

  
A further three months had passed along since Patsy had come to terms with the emotions Delia was stirring within her. Not that she had managed to get herself close enough to acceptance to say anything to Delia, but it was getting far harder to conceal things. Her eyes blatantly followed the brunette across the room and she would find any excuse to be on the same shift as her. Patsy knew the hours counting down to their card game would be long and tedious.

  
"Delia?"

  
Patsy stood outside the door to Deila's room at 7:38. She would have been sooner but a lot of thought had gone into selecting the olive green sweater and the grey slacks.  
"Patsy. Not very nurse-like of you to show up so late?" Delia was such a tease, it was almost as if she knew exactly what Patsy was thinking. "How does rummy sound?"

  
"Perfection."

  
Patsy had never been a card player,at least not successfully anyway. And after two hours and three generous servings of whisky, things started to go downhill quickly. Usually she could handle her liquor, but sleep deprivation and emotional trials meant she was dissolving much quicker than she normally would, which Delia easily noticed.

  
"Patsy, honey. You need your bed." Delia caught Patsy's hands in her own to remove the cards that Patsy was struggling to distinguish from one another.

  
The redhead pulled her hands away as if she had been burnt. "Don't."

 

Delia clasped her hands tightly in her lap, bright pink heat visibly rising up her neck. "I'm so sorry, I-"

  
"You don't understand Deel." Patsy fell over her words a little but was determined to get them out whilst she had the bottle. "I can't let you be nice to me because of what I am. What I feel for you. You'd never understand, I think...I think it's what love is supposed to feel like."

  
Patsy's hand shot over her mouth, as if she could somehow place the words back into her mouth and undo the damage. She had jeopardised everything for a silly crush. Delia's lips hung slightly open, obvious shock and probably horror. Fuck, what had she done?

  
Delia reached out and reclaimed one of Patsy's hand, with no resistance being put up this time, and planted a delicate kiss on her cheek. "Patsy. Patience. I understand completely."

 


	5. Your Secret Sighs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patsy has mastered putting on a brave face, but Delia can always tell when there's something bothering her behind the mask. And only she can get it out of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for how long it's been between chapters, I'm terrible. But even the most Patsy and Delia obsessed occasionally have to put sixth form first, although it's the Easter holidays now so hopefully there'll be a couple more soon! Honestly, I struggled to think of something for this line but I don't think it turned out too badly in the end.

Poplar knew Nurse Mount as a statuesque figure of sophistication and poise, it took very little to phase her. Petulant children and even more petulant mothers knew that there was very little that could be done to resist once she had made up her mind about what was going to happen. Not that she didn't care of course, it was her immense care that made her so bloody minded in ensuring her patients received the very best standard of care, so much so that she would occasionally find herself butting heads with anyone who posed any kind of threat to that.

The nuns knew Patience as a force to be reckoned with. She was a damn good nurse, that much was obvious to anyone with half a brain cell. Despite having to handle the odd incident where her brusqueness had clashed with a mother, the sisters knew that Patience was the kind of steadfast woman their patients required. Reliable, sturdy and good hearted. Not to mention her ability to make herself the most unbearable pain in Sister Ursula's backside, which made her a firm favourite amongst the others.

Trixie, Barbara, Val and Phyllis knew Patsy as a brilliant friend to have around. Any tough day could be instantly remedied by a good laugh and possibly a stiff drink with the redhead. She exuded a confidence that was impossibly infectious, and her ability to put on a brave face was second to none. If either woman found herself in a tough situation Patsy could be easily relied on for an intelligent solution or for a fierce backup. All in all, Patsy was the headstrong powerhouse that anyone could be immensely grateful for.

Delia was particularly pleased with the way she got to see her Pats. Of course, Delia was as much in awe of the steely nerves and unwavering conviction her girlfriend possessed (she found herself engaged in battle with them more than once). She was also keenly aware that a troubled life had given Pats a tougher armour than most. That's why she felt it such a privilege to be exposed to the vulnerabilities that lay under the mask. Delia unlocked the rarest perspective of her, she saw Pats in her rawest form both for better and for worst. Sometimes it was a battle to break down those barriers, but every time it was possible it was perfect.

* * *

Ever since Patsy had returned from Hong Kong, Delia was the happiest she had ever been. Not least because Val's slightly unprecedented arrival had made Trixie's room a little overbooked, so Patsy had been put into to Delia's room with a multitude of apologies from everyone. The young couple had been sure to throw in a couple of "it can't be helped" and "no really, it's fine" as they fought to conceal their grins. Delia felt this unexpected closeness had given her a much more intimate insight into Patsy's inner self. They'd never truly lived beside each other for more than one than one night, the wall between their rooms had always separated them. As much as she enjoyed their closeness, there was still an invisible wall between them.

"I'm going to turn in early," Patsy say shortly after supper almost every night, scarcely concealing a deep aching sigh as a yawn, "I'm sure a baby will have me up early in the morning."

"Leave the light off please, darling." she'd would whisper from the bed they had formed from pushing both together as Delia crept in for the night, sighing as the light swept across her face

"I love you too Deels. Goodnight." She mustered a weak smile, sighing into her pillow after she turned away from her girlfriend's touch.

Delia was so glad to have her Patsy back but she had returned not quite the same as when she left. Earlier in the year Patsy was plagued by anxieties over father, her mind constantly on overdrive and her body doing all it could to keep the pace. She also wasn't quite the version of Patsy she'd seen blossom just after Christmas, in her element taking charge whilst the others were in South Africa. It was as if she'd left a little of her fight in Hong Kong with her, her brave face was no longer able to withstand 24 hours. So much to process, so much to come to terms with. Delia was well aware that she had to give Patsy time to grieve but couldn't deny how much it hurt to watch her try to deal with it all alone. Again.

"Hey. Pats." Delia reached out and gently took hold of Patsy's hand. She didn't let go but she didn't turn to face Delia.

"Patsy. Please don't shut me out." Delia had to swallow hard to keep the slight tremor out of her voice. The redhead finally turned around, teeth clenched hard on her lip and tears slightly illuminating the bluest hues of her eyes.

"I don't know what to say." Patsy whispered, suppressing any emotion from her voice.

Delia moved her hand from beneath the sheets and up to Patsy's hair. The lacquer had been firmly combed out and hung gently round her face, giving Delia the chance to run her hands through it as she so loved to. She twirled the closest orange strand through her fingers, rubbing her thumb against Patsy's burning cheek.

"I've lost everything Delia." she choked out, her face crumpling. Had Patsy even let herself cry at all since her father died? Delia hurriedly pulled her girlfriend tightly to her, trying to suffocate her sobs into her chest. Patsy never changed, she would always hold everything in until it erupted. Usually dramatically. All Delia ever do was watch it subtly build up and hold her close.

"He was all I had left. He was my only connection to my sister and my mother. The thread's broken now, they've all left me." Patsy's words were falling out in a strangled mess, panic caught up in each syllable.

"Patsy. Patsy, honey. It's okay. You'll be okay." Delia repeated anything she could think of into Patsy's ear. Her arms were wrapped around the brunette's neck, clinging as if she could disappear at any possible moment. Delia had no idea how long it had been when Patsy's breaths began to slow down and she loosened her grip, but the earliest light had started to creep through the window by the time Patsy shuffled away from her slightly.

"I know I can't fix it, but I'm not going anywhere. You've got me, I promise." Delia ran her fingers lightly down Patsy's exposed arm, earning a weak smile. Delia watched as Patsy rubbed her reddened eyes, pulling the covers closer under her chin. Here was this beautiful, strong woman who only she was able to see the vulnerable side of. The Welsh woman was determined now more than ever that she could help Patsy to open up a little, so that she wouldn't have to bottle things up for so long, and she wouldn't push herself to breaking point. Fewer hours of crying and fewer secret sighs.

"Tell me about your father."


	6. The Way You Comb Your Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very loosely based on the 'cards' scene, Patsy's hair gets her into some trouble with Trixie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, A-Levels have finished so finally this can be my priority again! I wasn't sure where to go with this one, it took me a while to figure out how to fit the title

It's said that in a world where the feelings most central to who you are have to be forced inwards, a stolen moment in time must be seized with both hands. As far as Patsy could tell, Delia took this doctrine very, very literally. The moment the door was closed behind her when going into Delia's room, the brunette was on her. Her hands were a whirlwind, and Patsy often felt herself engulfed in a kiss before she had scarcely had a chance to turn the lock behind her. Maybe it was the pressure that built up from being forced to repress every smallest physical manifestation of love, perhaps it was simply just the racing hormones of being a twenty-something finally living in close quarters with the woman she loved.

The very first evening that Delia had been at Nonnatus they had taken such an opportunity. Months of loneliness and worry had melted out of Patsy's chest as Delia's lips fell upon her, and the way her hands glided across her left her with little doubt that Delia was in love with every single inch of her. Patsy's fingers had reached upwards to twist them deep into Delia's chocolatey locks, trying to keep any sounds in by holding onto the thought that there would be hell to pay if they were discovered.

"I fancy some Ovaltine," Delia mused, gently removing herself from her girlfriend's arms. "Come downstairs with me?"

Patsy's eyes drifted to follow Delia as she crossed the room to slip on her favourite purple cardigan, biting her slightly swollen bottom lip to hold back a giggle. "Deels, have you seen your hair?"

Delia spun round to find her self in the mirror. Strands of hair stood practically on end, the tightly wound bun and perfectly straight fringe had fallen by the wayside in the face of Patsy's hand. She turned back to her laughing girlfriend who was trying to conceal a smile , rolling her eyes in mock annoyance. The redhead watched her as she loosened the grip of bobby pins on her locks and allowed the waves to fall down her back. Patsy felt her mouth drop open a little, nothing was more attractive to her than seeing Delia's hair free. The slightly flickering lamp next to her head highlighted the beautifully warm bronze tones than ran through it, and the way it softly framed her face was simply exquisite. As Delia continued running the comb through her hair Patsy couldn't help praying that beehives and buns would soon fall out of fashion.

Delia came back to Patsy, still curled up on the bed. She tucked her thumb under her girlfriend's slightly agape jaw with a flirtatious wink. "You'll catch flies Patience, love."

*   *   *

Remembering to check each other's hair before returning to the rest of Nonnatus had eventually become something of a ritual. On a particular autumn evening, Patsy found herself quite alone in the house. Everyone else was out on a birth except for Sister Winifred who was next on call so was far away in the chapel and Trixie who was meeting a friend at the flicks. All alone except for her lovely Delia in the room next door. She took a quick glance in the mirror, glad she had chosen the sky blue pyjamas that Delia always told her brought out her eyes, and then hurried across the hall.

Predictably, Patsy soon found herself with her mouth on Delia's neck and her hands slipping up the younger woman's nightdress. Delia's hands were running through her girlfriend's hair, a formidable force against several layers of lacquer. She felt her carefully constructed hairdo falling apart but how could she care?

"Pats, did I leave my watch in your room?" Delia asked, a while later whilst putting together the uniform she was going to need for the following morning. Patsy flicked her eyes around Delia's unkempt bedroom for the glint of the silver timepiece, assuming it would be hidden somewhere in the untidiness.

"It must be, I'll go have a look" She placed a kiss on Delia's forehead before heading back to her own room.

*   *   *

"Where have you been?" Patsy stopped dead as she walked in the room to Trixie lying on her bed with a cigarette in her hand.

"You're at the cinema?" Patsy managed to stammer out, knowing her and Delia had not been as subtle as they should have been.

"Linda's got a ghastly headache by the sounds of things, didn't you hear the phone ring? I'd wager she's meeting up with some bloke. Anyway, where have you been?"

Leave it to Trixie to never stop interrogating. "I was in Delia's room," Patsy continued carefully thinking to find something innocent to explain away the situation, "She was...teaching me a new card game."

She could feel Trixie's eyes trained on her, knowing the astute blonde was most likely putting together every piece of the puzzle. Everything she had, her reputation, her career, her friends, her Delia, could all slip away from her with one wrong move from Trixie. "Was that really what you were doing, Patsy?"

Trixie's voice was laced with suspicion but Patsy was confident she could work her way around it. "Oh yes, the nurses at the London have so many card games from back in the Nurse's Home. Delia was just refreshing me on a couple." Patsy gave herself a little nod, assured that she had gotten away with it despite her heart still hammering in her chest.

"Pats honey, did you find it? I think I left it on the-"

Trixie triumphantly locked eyes with Patsy as the welsh brunette barrelled into the room, hands flying to her mouth when she realised that her girlfriend wasn't alone. Her hair was wild and there was the faintest smear of lipstick by her lip. Patsy felt the panic rise in her throat, the pounding in her chest going to her head and blocking out all her thoughts. It was as if she was stuck behind thick glass, Delia sounded so so far way when she started talking.

"Trixie please, I'll leave. I'll find somewhere else to live, you don't have to see me again. Just please don't ruin Patsy's life." Hearing the telltale sound of Delia trying to keep the wobble out of her voice shattered the glass, bringing Patsy's sobs up to the surface. In nearly 3 years of friendship, Trixie had never seen her strongest friend cry. Patsy could see the caring woman step forward to comfort her, and immediately stepping back to allow Delia to go to her instead.

"I'm not going to do anything, you know." Trixie said softly. "No one else will find out from me."

Patsy could feel her breath starting to come back to her and the feeling of ice started to thaw out of her limbs.

"Do you really mean that?" Delia asked cautiously as she took hold of Patsy's hand, Patsy could feel the tremble of Delia's hand.

"Of course. Patsy, you know this sort of thing doesn't bother me. Honestly, when a girl as much of a catch as you doesn't have a gentleman,a girl starts to wonder."

Patsy allowed herself a smile of relief, there was something about her best friend knowing about the most important part of her that felt like a weight lifting from her shoulders.

"Just a tip in future though girls, comb your bloody hair!" Trixie giggled, knocking a playful punch onto Delia's knee.


	7. Your Freckled Nose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A simple dye job can work wonders

One of the very earliest inclinations a young Delia Busby had that she was somehow different was the book of fairy tales she had inherited from her paternal grandmother, a woman Delia had no memory of. Delia's mother had considered it an inappropriate gift for a five year old little girl, with its heavily leather bound spine and the sheets of tissue so delicate they could have been gossamer that protected the rich colour palettes. But Delia loved it, and spent hours in her room poring over each page, even before any of the words made any sense to her. There was one image in particular that really resonated with her, from the Little Red Riding Hood. The girl 's face took up the whole page, with the focus being on a myriad of freckles scattered across the middle of her face. Delia would delicately trace her fingers over the marks, they reminded her of a prettier version of the dot-to-dot colouring books they had at nursery. Many years later she would nostalgically refer to Red as her first heart break,when her little cousin Owen scribbled with purple crayon on the page, when Delia was 9 and 'ought to know much better than crying over a silly picture book'.

  
Delia had much forgotten about Red until many, many years later. She had somehow found herself in London, a bigger, scarier, but so much more thrilling world than that tiny bedroom she left behind in Pembrokeshire. As much as she was trying to convince herself that her first day on the ward of the London was simply a small step on her biggest adventure, her fingers were still semi-consciously tapping on the side of her thigh as she stepped into the office of the matron.

  
"Nurse Delia Busby?" A dark haired middle age woman with a face as tightly laced as her regulation black shoes was waiting for the young woman, reminding her of being summoned to the headmistress' office. "Welcome to the London. As I'm sure you're aware, we run a tight ship. Tomorrow morning I expect your shoes to be properly polished and I won't have your hair in such a ridiculous twist."

  
Delia could feel heat prickling in her throat, determined to maintain her eye contact and not let her head hang. "It won't happen again, ma'am."

  
The senior nurse nodded slightly at the younger woman in front of her, her eyes then moving to follow a figure breezing past the ajar door. "Nurse Mount!"

  
Hurried footsteps changed direction, until a lanky woman was stood just behind Delia. "Matron." The blonde nurse responded, courteous but void of any genuine warmth towards the woman behind the desk.

  
"Take Nurse Busby to the Nightingale Ward. Make sure she knows what needs to be done." Her lips remained tightly pursed, eyes trained on the two young women in front of her.

  
Delia hurried for the door, refusing to look at Nurse Mount. Her eyes were burning with the shame of her encounter. She had always been considered an able student at the nursing college in Cardiff, but here this woman had cut her right down to size in a matter of minutes.

  
The older nurse stopped a few yards down the corridor and put her hand on the shoulder, a move that Delia would later find out was unusually tactile for her. She leaned in close with a lopsided grin, so close that Delia could smell Murray Mints on her breath.

  
"Don't worry about Nurse Dobson, we all know that flask on her desk is full of Scotch. I'm sure you're quite capable."

  
Delia wanted to focus on her words but found herself staring at the blonde's cheeks. The vaguest suggestion of freckles were dotted across the centre of her face, only really visible from the distance she found herself at. For the first time in over a decade Delia remembered that book of fairy tales, and for the first time she felt at home in London.

  
*   *   *

  
For months that turned into years, Patsy Mount remained Delia's sense of home. The giggles of friendship blossomed into the whispers of romance, into the security of a settled relationship. Delia had come to understand the other woman intrinsically, every quirk and Patsy-ism was accounted for in Delia's mind. In particular she knew for damn sure when her stubborn girlfriend was hiding something.

  
'Delia. Need to talk to you. Love Pats x'

  
On returning from an almost endless night shift, Delia found the note curled up on her bed beside one of her favourite strawberry sherbets, the careful loops of her handwriting as familiar as her own signature. She supposed she should have felt anxious by the note but she had known for weeks that this was coming, Patsy had been avoiding any conversation to do with work which was bloody difficult when they lived and breathed nursing side by side. As she drifted off to sleep, Delia couldn't help a satisfied smile at the thought of the invisible walls starting to come down.

  
Delia awoke to the feeling of Patsy sliding underneath the quilt. Without opening her eyes, she wrapped her arms around the familiar figure and pulled her closer. Her fingers found the softness of one of her signature plaid shirts rather than a starched stiff uniform, she could have sworn Patsy had a shift but evidently not.

  
"Deels." Patsy whispered. "Are you awake?"

  
A shock of orange greeted Delia's eyes the moment they opened. Without thinking, her hand came up from Patsy's waist to wrap a loose curl around her finger. Delia's mind was cast back to several days ago when they were sat on Patsy's bed with a magazine, Patsy focused on the double page glossy colour spread of an interview and photoshoot with Rita Hayworth. The actor's flame coloured locks particularly caught her attention. Delia couldn't have imagined how perfect it would look on Patsy, the contrasting colours electrified the blue of her eyes. But, oh god, Delia could never have prepared for the effect on her skin. Those faint whispers of freckles were highlighted by the brightness surrounding her face. Absentmindedly, Delia lightly traced her fingertips the specks of stardust, just as she had done so many years ago.

  
"Patsy." Delia croaked, voice still thick with drowsiness. "Beautiful."

  
A smile broke across Patsy's face, the approval from her girlfriend seemed to bring relief. The relief was short lived however, as her gaze shifted away from Delia.

  
"I need to tell you something."

  
Patsy anxiously bit her bottom lip as Delia waited for her to pluck up the courage to continue.

  
"I have a new job. I don't want to leave you Deels but this place isn't for me, I want to help women and I sure as hell can't do it on my terms here. I leave for Nonnatus House in 3 days. I'm so so sorry I kept it from you, I didn't know what to say"

  
Delia wanted to grab Patsy and hold her tight, keep her wrapped up here at the London with her. But she looked at the woman she loved and knew that was selfishness talking. The shine that Patsy had within her was undeniable, this new hairstyle made it a much more physical shine of course, and who was Delia to deny the world of so much potential. She gently ran a finger down the soft curve of her freckled nose.

  
"You're going to be incredible."


	8. The Way You Say You Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Trust is the glue of life. It's the most essential ingredient in effective communication. It's the foundational principle that holds all relationships.'-Stephen Covey

The bonds of inherent trust tether a person to the world around them. It fosters such an ease of relating to one another that those who are never forced to question it can scarcely imagine what it means to live with such a violation. Patience Mount had her trust broken at the age of nine in a prisoner of war camp, when she quickly learnt that not every person had the kind eyes of her mother or the gentle smile of her father. Too young, she understood that there was only one person in the world she could depend on to protect her, only Patsy was looking out for Patsy. She had very firmly decided that nobody would ever again win her trust.

  
*   *   *

  
Over a decade later, Nurse Mount was using her barriers to accelerate through a medical career. The other women around her were never able to forge a connection with her. Some wrote her off as simply cold whereas others found her emotional unavailability a little intimidating, none were able to deny that she was a truly excellent nurse but none called her a friend. Patsy liked life this way, she felt that keeping this divide between her and the other nurses protected her career because she would never get sidetracked by the foibles of friendship and fall outs. Besides, it kept the secret thoughts that some women triggered deep in her mind at bay. But it was undeniable that when a shift was a struggle Patsy occasionally found herself wishing for someone to confide in.

  
Such an occasion arose after one particularly gruelling night on the ward. 28 year old Johnathan Douglas had spent the previous 3 days in the final throes of brain cancer, and Patsy had found every loophole and technicality to ensure that she had been by his bedside for the vast majority of those long hours. Patsy's patients were the outlet for her innate need for humanity, she always cared so, so deeply for the ones who needed her the most. She knew that there was nothing that medicine could have done for Johnathan and that she had managed to make his last days as bearable as she could, but as she sat in the staff room with her legs tucked beneath her, the wails of Johnathan's mother begging for the life of her baby Johnny kept circling in her mind.

  
"Are you okay?"

  
A brunette nurse appeared next to Patsy, the Welsh lilt of her voice more familiar to her than her face. Patsy remembered her as the little sunny nurse who she occasionally passed on her rounds, a young woman always chattering away effortlessly to every person who she came into contact with as if she were a Jack Russell seeking affection from strangers. As far as Patsy could tell, she thrived off of people.

  
"I'm perfectly fine." Patsy hurriedly smeared away the tears that betrayed her by slipping down her cheeks. She had to remind herself to keep the sharp edge out of her voice.

  
The Welsh nurse stood up and crossed the room, Patsy assumed that she had pushed away another person. It wasn't necessarily that she wanted to cut herself off entirely from everyone else, she just believed that letting down the walls she had built would inevitably lead to heartbreak. Cases like Johnathan served as some kind of proof of that.

  
A purple paisley mug was pushed gently towards her across the coffee table. On taking a tentative sip, Patsy smiled slightly into the mug of strong black sugarless tea, just the way she liked it.

  
"We can't save them all Nurse Mount." The other nurse spoke softly, warm but in no way condescending. "But dedication like yours is never a waste."

  
Patsy stammered out a small thank you as the kind nurse left her alone to collect herself. She cursed herself a little for not knowing her name.

  
*   *   *

  
Nurse Delila Busby became the very first best friend that Patsy ever knew. There was something freeing about there being someone to vent to after a doctor had dismissed her like a child, and someone to share laughs with after a really good day. Pasty did have to admit that she sometimes found it difficult to figure out where boundaries of feelings ought to be drawn with Delia, but she assumed this was just a part of a new friendship.

  
However, Patsy still managed to shut off the majority of the things she felt from Delia. Of course she knew that the younger nurse exuded kindness from every pore, but she also knew that she was too much. Her worst fear was that if she allowed Delia to open the lid on her emotions even just a fraction, everything would come rushing out at once which would simply terrify the poor woman.

  
Every night for over three months, every single night that they both had off Delia had snuck into Patsy's room. They played cards for hours and giggled about utter nonsense until they both couldn't deny their drooping eyelids and their yawns. After three months they had reached the 27th March, the one Patsy dreaded more than anything. All day in the hospital Patsy had winced at the hurt look on Delia's face every single time she forced herself to brush her off. It was impossible to do on that day, it wasn't fair on Delia to weigh her down with her own sadness.

  
"You don't seem okay." Delia caught up with Patsy as she practically sprinted down the corridor. She cautiously looped her arm around Patsy's elbow, concern painted on every part of her face.

  
Patsy shoved down that part of her brain that wanted to fall into Delia's arms and sob, and slipped her arm away from Delia. "I'm fine Delia. Honestly." She hurried away, feeling Delia's eyes trained on the back of her head.

  
Back in her room, Patsy finally had the space to collapse. 11 years to the day since she had lost her mother and her sister. Since the day she lost her links to humanity, resigned her 9 year old self to being Prisoner #4829 rather than little Patsy the beaming baby of the Mount family. As she tucked the framed photograph of the older woman and the girl who was barely a teenager tightly to her chest, tears flowing for the loss that ached her heart like a thorn that she had been unable to dislodge for over a decade.

  
"Patsy? Are you in there?"

  
Patsy could hear the doorknob twist, thank God for the slightly dodgy infrastructure of the Nurse's Home. She squeezed her eyes close and feigned sleep, wincing slightly as the photograph clattered to the ground.

  
"Patsy?"

  
Delia's feet padded across the carpet, her rhythm was a tempo Patsy could always identify. Patsy heard Delia's fingertips tap on the glass of the photo frame and the soft sound of her placing it on the bedside table. Delia's weight gently came down on the end of the bed and her hand rested lightly on Patsy's thigh. Patsy was positive that Delia believed she was sleeping.

  
"I wish you could tell me Pats. I only want to help you."

  
*   *   *

By April 1957, friendship was tentatively blossoming into a relationship. Frightened but certain confessions of attraction had spilled out and they were learning the steps to a dance that had to remain a tightly guarded secret. Patsy was happier than she had ever been, but the idea of being so open with another person terrified her. Delia was all she could have ever hoped for but the fear of baring her soul to her made the ground beneath them feel unsteady.

  
Even as the honesty grew and labels shifted, some elements of the Patsy/Delia dynamic remained the same. Delia still arrived in Patsy's room at every spare moment to play blackjack or rummy, they were simply able to curl up together and their laughter was left unrestrained by the invisible barrier that had existed between them for so long.

  
"Oh Patsy! I've honestly never met anyone quite so unable to remember the rules of a game." Delia couldn't help but laugh at Patsy's inability to remember the right time to throw down a Queen.

  
Patsy gently shoved Delia's shoulder. "Shut up, you're so mean to me."

  
"Make me." Delia whispered, flirtatious dripping from her tone.

  
Patsy lunged into a kiss that allowed her to absorb all of her girlfriend. She pressed their lips together with such urgency that Delia felt herself fall backwards, Patsy deepened the kiss with Delia lying beneath her. Insistent fingers became tangled in the flames of Patsy's hair whilst Delia's other hand slid down Patsy's neck and across her back, trying to pull her even closer. Patsy felt herself freeze, and then lurch away from Delia as if she was made of fire. In the heat of spring Patsy's pyjamas were thin cotton, she knew that Delia had felt everything. Every deep welt and raised scar. Patsy knew she was damaged goods and that Delia would not want such a burden. Her breathing quickened as she could feel the concrete walls around her falling back into place.

  
"I'm fine. Delia, please don't ask." Pasty saw the concern spread across Delia's face.

  
"Patsy, you're not okay." Delia reached out to grasp Patsy's hand, which hung limply by her side.

  
"Please Deels. Can we just forget about this?"

  
Patsy looked at the wonderful brunette in front of her, seeing tears brimming in her azure eyes. She knew that a nurse's instinct was to dive straight into helping and often prying, so when Delia kissed her cheek goodnight and closed the door behind her, Patsy knew that Delia was going against her nature to respect her privacy.

  
*   *   *

  
"And this is Mr Gerald Naylor. I want you to dress his legs ulcers, and do take special care Nurse Mount because he is an old army comrade of mine."

  
Doctor Yates flashed a smile he believed was winning but was really quite yellow before sauntering across the ward. Patsy gently pushed up the legs of her patient's pyjamas to be able to access the shins ravaged by infection. Her fingers stopped abruptly where his leg met his ankle. Deep puce coloured rings ran around his ankles, Patsy had only ever seen them before, in an awful, awful place.

  
"I earned those in Japan in '44. You're much too young to know about all that though I imagine, Missy." The ageing man smiled, clear to Patsy that he was biting back the painful memories she knew all to well.

  
Never before had Patsy completed a full sterilisation and dressing of severe ulcers so carefully, doing everything that she could to conceal the slight tremble of her hands as she reached for each bandage.

  
"Mr Naylor! How are you?" Patsy's favourite nurse appeared behind her, practically bouncing with the joy she had for each and every patient.

  
"I'm doing just great thanks to your friend's capable hands, dear." Gerald Naylor's smile grew genuine, Delia always had such an impact on people.

  
"Patsy." Delia pulled the older nurse slightly away from the bed. "You're shaking. I'll finish this, meet me in the broom closet in five minutes."

  
Patsy wanted to protest her girlfriend's command but suddenly felt far too tired to do anything of the sort. She pressed the bottle of antiseptic into Delia's palm and trailed down the corridor.

"Patsy, honey. Stop this." Delia had appeared in the tiny room within several minutes, true to her word. "There's something you're keeping secret, something big, and keeping it in isn't helping you."

  
Millions of excuses and brush offs were flooding Patsy's brain, giving her so many opportunities to escape. For years, Patsy had stayed true to her decision that there was nobody out there who she could share with, nobody out there who had truly kind motives. But then she looked at Delia, her sweet pure Delia. The sunshine that thawed out even the deepest corners of her soul that had been frozen over for so long. The dry land when the past was a siren song that sought to drag her under. The glimmer of hope when things got too dark for her. Patsy looked at Delia and suddenly she understood, she finally understood the way she cared.

  
"It was the scars. You only get ankle scars like that in a prisoner of war camp. I should know, I ended up in one when I was 9. That's where I lost my mother and my sister."  
Patsy could feel her words coming out in a jumble, her lungs felt empty. She was well aware that now the truth was out there was going back.

  
"Patience." Delia whispered, threading her fingers through Patsy's. "You're okay."


	9. Your Crazy Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The death of her father broke down many of Patsy's deepest barriers, but when it truly counted she forgets how to use her words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the link to the title is a liiiiiiittle tenuous but honestly I was struggling for this chapter. I hope it works anyway :)

Leaving Nonnatus house in 1964 was the hardest decision that Delia Busby ever had to make. It was true what Patsy had told her after a few months of her first moving in, it was like a family. Delia pretended to be a completely independent woman and of course her mother often took things too far, but she had to admit that her heart was deeply rooted in Wales. Every time she ached for the home that used to be hers she found solace somewhere in the convent.

  
After Patsy returned from Hong Kong, the redhead had grown bolder in herself. Delia had always yearned for more from her girlfriend, Patsy had always been the more reserved woman in the relationship, but it was starting to get dangerous. Patsy was forgetting to check that doors were locked before pulling her into a kiss. She was forgetting to not let her eyes linger on Delia for longer than strictly necessary. Patsy was forgetting to be careful when sneaking across the corridor to Delia's room. Delia had seen enough of patients families racked by grief to be able to write Patsy's recklessness off as the shock of losing her father. Eventually however, a year had passed and Patsy showed no signs of returning to her former self. A small part of Delia was relieved that her girlfriend had broke down a number of emotional barriers that had very much stood in their way. But then Trixie found out.

"I knew it!"

  
Trixie had thrown open the door to Deila'sroom one late November evening when Patsy had sneaked across the corridor. Once upon a time Patsy would have painstakingly checked whether Trixie was actually sleeping before she left the room.

"Its not what it looks like." Delia had blurted out, realising their lips had still been connected when Trixie burst in one them.

  
"Don't be silly, Delia." Trixie had giggled, and confidently sat herself down on Delia's bed. Her eyes were sparkling with her love for gossip and a juicy story. "Now I want to know every single detail."

  
Delia wasn't cynical enough to think that Trixie would go around spreading the secret or using it against them, honestly she had seen positively thrilled to be in on it. But now both Trixie and Phyllis knew, a sure sign that things were getting out of hand. It was only going to be a matter of time before word reached Sister Julienne. Breaking the news to Patsy was never going to be easy.

  
*   *   *

 

"Pats, can I talk to you?"

  
Delia cornered her girlfriend coming out of the kitchen the morning after she had made her decision. Patsy had been on call all night which gave her space to agonise over the rights and wrongs of leaving, she was certain she hadn't got more than half an hour's sleep. Her friend at the hospital, Frances, had been talking about the flat her brother-in-law had just put up for rent. It was well within Delia's means and was within a five minute walk of Nonnatus House so she could quite easily see Patsy at a moment's notice and could be on call once her training was complete. But it wasn't the same as living with her love.

  
Knowing that someone could have entered the kitchen at any moment, Delia tried to explain all of this to Patsy. She could hear the words falling out of her mouth but they sounded alien to her. Every instinct Delia had in her was directed at staying as close to Patsy as possible. For years she had longed for her girlfriend to lose some of her rigid inhibition, but she had to trust that gut feeling that told her she had to back away in order to protect everything that they had fought for for so long.

  
"I get it." Patsy had lit a cigarette, it always surprised Delia how quickly she managed to do that when she was stressed (and made her question where the bloody hell she hid them in that uniform.) She was nodding in resignation, her eyes trained deeply on Delia's. "I don't blame you."

  
And so it was decided. Delia's heart was heavy as she approached Sister Julienne's office. Looking in the eyes of the woman who had practically been an angel to her, providing the haven for her and Patsy, and telling blatant lies made Delia want to burst into tears. She told her that with the hustle and bustle of the convent she was struggling to balance midwifery studies with a heavy hospital rota. She reasoned with herself that this was true to an extent, she was just omitting to mention that a certain redhead was the main cause of her utter distraction.

  
*   *   *

  
Making a house a home without the woman she loved was a task Delia thought was impossible, but approached with her typical chipper attitude. She covered all the chairs in covers the colour of Mrs B's best custard tarts, chose the least risque photos of her and Patsy to frame on almost every available surface, and even managed to find a small jug at a market that closely resembled the one from that perfect flat way back in 1960. But how could it be a home without Patsy?

  
This isn't to say that Patsy wasn't a regular fixture in the flat. Delia had been secretly petrified that Patsy wouldn't understand, that she would turn away from her. On the contrary, she was as much a part of the furniture as the rickety coffee table and the loudly humming fridge. With the help of Trixie and Phyllis, Patsy was always able to figure out an excuse to sleep at Delia's flat. An overnight bag of clothes and quite often a cake that had already been sampled by Sister Monica Joan in tow, Patsy was at the flat at least 3 nights out of every week.

  
Still, it was less than Delia had grown used to living alongside her girlfriend. She could almost feel herself going insane missing her every day. Patsy and her clothes were something that went hand in hand in one's imagination, she had always caused such a stir with what she wore. Delia's particular favourites include a simple emerald coloured dress that clashed beautifully alongside her alabaster skin and amber hair, the red and white gingham dress she had worn for that long ago dance that she had appeared at the flat with when there had been a Motown special on the radio, any of a number of plaid mens' shirts that were just so undeniably Patsy. Delia didn't have to think hard to recall these garments, she saw them every single time she opened her wardrobe or chest of drawers. She had no idea why they were always there. Patsy appeared to arrive in one outfit, leave in another, and yet leave a further one behind.

  
"Hey Delia, do you still have my anatomy book? Timothy Turner has been asking if we've got any spare medical books. I swear he's trying to turn his siblings into child doctors." Delia could hear the bemused exasperation in Trixie's voice before she even entered the same room as her.

  
One of the best things about Trixie being in the know was the friendship that had blossomed much more easily between her and Delia. They had quickly discovered a shared love of Chuck Berry records and Agatha Christie novels that instantly bonded. They were also the only two people who were able to pick up the way Patsy was feeling every time her guard came up.

  
Delia opened the wardrobe as Trixie leaned against the frame of the bedroom door, a lack of storage had meant her books were also living in the wardrobe. "I think its in here, I'll have to do a bit of digging to get to it."

  
Trixie laughed mirthlessly at watching her younger friend wrestle with clothes to try and find the book. "I know her wardrobe seemed to be thinning out a little but that wardrobe is at least half full of Patsy's clothes."

  
"Have you noticed that as well?" Delia turned to Trixie, as if she had suddenly confirmed that she wasn't descending into madness. "Why are they all here?"

  
Trixie gently clasped Delia's forearm in her wrist, smiling like it was the simplest and most romantic thing that had ever happened. "Oh Delia, how can you not tell? Your _girlfriend_ doesn't know how to tell you that she wants to move in."

 

"So she's just going to move all her things in here and wait for me notice?" Delia saw that her grin was shared by Trixie. "How very Patsy"

  
*   *   *

  
Bold from Trixie's revelation, Delia decided that it was finally the night. Of course she had wanted to have Patsy with here on every night she was alone but it had been so sad to leave Nonnatus, how could she possibly have asked her to do the same?

  
"Wine over whiskey?" Patsy chuckled as she sank down on the slightly deflated sofa. "We're really pushing the sophistication boat out tonight, aren't we Deels?"

  
"Well it's an important night tonight." Delia clinked her glass against the one Patsy was gripping.

  
Patsy's chewed her lip slightly. "Oh dear, have I missed something? It's definitely not your birthday and it's not our anniversary until April."

  
"Don't worry, you're fine. Just do me one favour: show me what you have in that bag." Delia barely kept back laughter, knowing what would be coming.

  
Reluctantly, Patsy unbuckled the bag and began pulling out clothes. Four pairs of socks, two pairs of black slacks, a thick navy shirt and a crisp white blouse.

  
Delia continued, biting her cheek to not laugh now."And you're staying for one night?"

  
"Well, you never know." Patsy was getting more and more flustered. "I might have spilled a drink on a shirt or had to go somewhere in the morning."

  
"Pats. I know what you're doing." Delia was now mere inches away from her girlfriend's face.

  
Patsy flushed even deeper red. "I don't know what you mean."

  
Delia looked at Patsy and saw everything that she'd been missing from the flat. Without her it was just four walls and some crap furniture, with her it was a home lit up with the bright promise of a future. She'd waited so, so long for her to open up and become freer in their love, how could she do anything but embrace it?

  
"Cariad." Delia cupped Patsy's cheek with the palm of her hand. "Please move in with me."

  
Patsy closed the gap between their faces, locking Delia in a kiss that undoubtedly answered the plea. "Delia, can we go to our bed?"

 


	10. Snuggling In The Car

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to the seaside doesn't quite go according to plan for Patsy and Delia.

As soon as she returned from Hong Kong, Patsy immediately became aware of the camaraderie between her girlfriend and the no nonsense Yorkshire midwife. At first she had panicked that their secret was one step closer to being uncovered but there was no way she could hold any kind of grudge when she started to feel pressure being lifted from her by having some freedom to open up about the most important part of her life with someone else. Plus, Phyllis had become close enough with Delia that she was increasingly concerned with her happiness. So as unexpected as it was, her kindness was not entirely surprising when she made an offer to the pair of them one balmy June evening after a particularly gruelling week of Delia's midwifery training.

  
"Can I interest you in use of my car tomorrow? I'm sure you're both off of rota tomorrow afternoon and I've heard Brighton is simply lovely at this time of year. Of course I will have to compel you for petrol money but I'm sure that won't be too much."

  
Patsy genuinely didn't think she had ever heard herself or Delia say thank you so many times. The gratitude almost seemed to be enough to fluster the unflappable Phyllis Crane, brushing the pair of them off as 'silly old saps'.

The following morning, Delia and Patsy met at midday with a simple picnic packed into the boot with their swimwear and as many towels as they could feasibly sneak out of the bathroom. Delia mockingly opened the passenger door for Patsy as if she were a chauffeur and then they were away.

  
The idea of Delia being able to drive had initially been surprising to Patsy. In an era where female drivers were scarce, the idea of her Delia driving around was slightly strange. Besides, she had joked that her short legs would be unable to reach the pedals. But the more Patsy got to understand Delia, a tough young woman with a fire that nobody seemed able to put out, breaking norms by driving just seemed an inherent part of who she was. And she had to admit that the face Delia pulled when she was making a particularly tricky manoeuvre made her want to have her way with the brunette right there on the driver's seat. She just didn't think Phyllis would have really approved of that.

  
"Patsy we're here." Delia gently nudged her girlfriend who was sleeping beside her, the motion of cars always made her drift off like a baby.

  
Patsy's eyes fluttered open, landing straight on Delia's grin. She beamed like a child going on her first trip to the seaside, a lightness that she had rarely seen before in her. Suddenly all she wanted to do was grab her hand and run along the beach with her.

  
"What's first on the agenda then, darling?" Patsy loved letting Delia take control in situations like this, watching her eyes sparkle with possibilities.

  
"The arcade!"

  
Delia practically leapt out of the car and onto the pavement, feet tapping impatiently whilst she waited for Patsy to throw her cardigan into the boot of the car. She allowed the brunette to loop her arm through hers and begin leading her towards the pier as if she had been there a million times before.

  
"How long should this walk take?" Patsy was bored of walking after about fifteen minutes. "I'm really not wearing the right shoes for this."

  
Delia stopped, glancing around for any kind of indication for where to go. Patsy watched her eyes fall on a sign post and her face broke into a smile.

  
"We should see it when we get around this corner I think. We definitely should've come in from the opposite direction. Sorry, Pats."

  
"Don't be silly, Delia. You couldn't have known and it's not like I was much help dozing beside you. We'll be there in five minutes."

  
*   *   *

  
Patsy had seen many beautiful things in her life time. A Singapore sunset, the hustle and bustle of a Hong Kong market, a storm forming in the sky above the Great Wall of China. But the sight of the whirring lights of the arcade were something else entirely, and watching Delia giggle and hop around with excitement was the icing on the cake. Patsy found herself almost dizzy with the music and the spinning colours that surrounded her.

  
"Come on." Delia caught Patsy by the wrist and pulled her towards the machine that had caught her eye at the back of the vast room.

  
Delia's skills with a pinball machine were not something that Patsy could ever have predicted but the way her hands flew across the machine and that repetitive ding of the metal ball was simply mesmerising. Patsy could have stood all day and watched Delia feed coins into the ever hungry machine.

  
"Do you want a go, Patsy?" Delia stepped to one side and practically dragged her into her place.

  
"Oh Delia I've no idea what I'm doing."

Patsy rested her hands on either side of the machine but refused to place a coin in, she utterly hated having to make a fool out of herself.  
Delia turned and inspected the space around them, whispering to Patsy that they were really quite alone in this isolated corner of the room. Patsy felt Delia's hands placed on top of hers as a safe pair of arms snaked around her and a familiar warm body pressed tightly against her back. Under her girlfriend's careful guidance, Patsy pressed the buttons in tandem with Delia's movements. When the display shone with a score nearing Delia's Patsy was unsure whether it was her or Delia that was more surprised by the triumphant yelp she let out.

  
"Deels look!" Patsy felt herself grow bolder knowing they couldn't be detected. "There's a photo booth."

  
She took her turn to pull her lover, bringing her a couple of meters to the left where the shiny cube stood. Patsy pulled aside the purple velvet curtain to allow Delia through and followed her closely. After scanning the plaque underneath the camera, Patsy slipped a couple of coins into the slot and shuffled somehow closer to the woman beside her.

  
"Smile, Patience." Delia mocked, nudging her with her elbow. Patsy obliged for the first three flashes of the camera, even going as far as to say 'cheese' when Delia asked her too.

  
"I've got a much better idea." Patsy wrapped her arm around Delia's neck and planted a kiss on her cheek

  
The machine coughed and spluttered a little before choking out the thin strip of black and white photos. Neither young woman could contain their giggles at the shocked expression on Delia's face in the final frame, or the rather unflattering way that Patsy's nose was squashed against Delia's cheek.

  
"Your turn to choose, what's next?" Patsy turned to Delia, waiting for the next step in the adventure. Going back into the more brightly lit area of the room they broke apart from one another, leaving all intimacy tightly locked away in their heads.

  
"I think we should walk back to the car and grab our picnic, take a long walk on that lovely beach and find a sunny spot to tuck into our sandw-" Delia had been talking somewhat dreamily as they strolled through the arcade, her words stopping dead as they reached the door.

  
"Maybe not?" Patsy slowly responded.

  
Rain was tipping down from the heavens in almost biblical proportions, pools of water sliding down the street. They could have sworn they had only been in the arcade for twenty minutes but the weather seemed like a completely different month. Patsy looked out onto the deserted street, everyone had sought refuge in doors. She grabbed tightly hold of Delia's hand and pulled her out of the door.

  
"Run."

  
*   *   *

  
After a five minute struggle to unlock the doors of the car and push the front seats forward, both women were curled up together on the back seat wrapped in as many towels as they could grab. Their hands shivered as they clutched chunks of pork pie and glass bottles of lemonade, wishing they had decided on flasks of cocoa instead.

  
"Do you think this is what Phyllis had in mind when she packed us off to the seaside?" Delia clinked her bottle against the one in Patsy's hands, laughing at the situation they had found themselves in.

  
Patsy snuggled up closer to Delia, unsure whether she was seeking the closeness of the woman she loved or simply the warmth of her body. "Maybe not, but I think I like this a little bit better."

  
"Me too." Delia sighed, nestling towards Patsy in reaction to her movements. "All alone with you in a car, nobody to burst through the door and interrupt."

  
"I love you, Delia Busby." Delia's cheeks flushed slightly red at Patsy's words, she had never been one for random proclamations of love. The intimacy of being closed in such a small space seemed to be bringing it out of her.

  
Delia leaned forward, close enough for Patsy to be able to see a few stray raindrops dripping off of her eyelashes and let the heat of her breath warm her face

  
"And I love you, Patience Mount."


	11. Your Wish Upon A Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some habits die hard. And apparently some are contagious, even if Delia thinks they're frankly ridiculous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been so long, this has been a tricky one. It's a little longer than usual so I'm hoping that helps make up for it :-)

The London Nurse's Home was a fairly bleak red brick building situated just outside of the very heart of the city. It lacked quite a lot in terms of personality and spirit in its architecture but it was perfectly adequate for its purpose. Nurses quickly grew accustomed to its plainness and found that the life they shared inside was more than enough to liven up an old building. There was, of course, the odd little secret hideaway that were discovered by residents and passed in whispers along through the generations of girls. Within weeks of living there Delia learnt about the cupboard that hid behind a bookshelf (often concealing a nurse's illicit gentleman caller), discovered the slight gap in the hedge that a flexible girl could squeeze through and find herself beside the pond in the neighbouring park, as well as accidentally stumbling across which of the rusty handled 'out of order' doors was really the back entrance to the Matron's bathroom in a particularly awkward encounter.

 

The distinct joy of these little secrets was not what they revealed about the actual bricks and mortar of the place. The pond in the park was coated in algae and was home to a rather ill-tempered duck, and Delia had no boyfriend to hide behind a bookcase. It was the sense of camaraderie that such discoveries fostered. When Delia collapsed into the nurse's common room with her tale of seeing Matron Simmons bright pink and flustered, she relished in the scandalised giggles from the other girls. It felt as if she was being woven into the very fabric of the place, a growing sense of familiarity that was golden for a girl who often felt a million miles away from home.

 

So when Delia made what she thought was the best discovery yet, she was surprised to realise she had no desire to tell anyone. After a particularly crappy day on the ward Delia was wandering around the perimeter of the home in her way back, allowing the chill of the November night to numb her mind for as long as possible. She miserably kicked at the overgrown shrubbery at the back of the building, feeling a little guilty but far too sullen to give it any attention.

 

"Stupid place." Delia cursed, after tripping over he plants. "Would it kill them to hire a gardener?"

 

She picked herself up, praying that she hadn't torn her uniform, and realised she was in front of a door. People rarely came to this side of the building and the unruly plants had consumed the door from sight. Delia reasoned it could be a store cupboard from years ago. Or maybe a portal to another dimension. Possibly. Probably not. Whatever it was, Delia was not about to pass up the chance for a little adventure.

 

The door gave a little more easily than Delia expected it too, revealing a spiral staircase. Ignoring her mother's favourite mantra 'curiosity killed the cat', she raced up the stairs two at a time until she found herself on the roof. All of London sprawled out before her eyes as she leant against a chimney. Nothing could shift her firm belief that the ocean at Tenby was the most beautiful sight in the world, but it was impossible for her not to feel her breath stolen by the expanse of city lights. Trying to identify every silhouette of a building and tracking the planes sluggishly dragging themselves across the horizon, Delia felt the pent up frustrations of her day melting out of her bones.

 

"Where have you been hiding, Delia?"

 

Delia had forced herself back down the stairs and towards her room after a couple of hours. In the corridor she bumped into the effortlessly sweet natured Jackie who chatted to any nurse she passed. Without even a thought, Delia heard the lie come out of her mouth.

 

"Oh I just got caught up at the hospital. You know how it can be."

 

She held no malice towards Jackie or the raven-haired Caroline standing beside her but she knew the rooftop was special because it was hers. The idea of another girl invading that space was out of the question.

 

*    *    *

 

Whenever Delia needed to relieve stress from work or when the homesickness crept in like a rising tide, she escaped to the roof. As much as she liked to pretend that only she knew about the stairs, Delia knew that was naive. Especially because she kept finding cigarette butts rimmed with dusky pink lipstick. She had tried to keep her visits to the roof restricted to when she truly needed the escape but she was determined to figure out who she was sharing the spot with. And probably give her a stern lecture on the issue of littering.

 

Her chance came on her first London Christmas. She wanted to go home for the holidays but found herself on the rota to work throughout, one of the downsides to being a newbie. All she wanted was to be in Wales with her family and yet she was stuck in a city that still didn't feel like her own. After a festive day of vomiting and catheters, Delia was thrilled at the thought of being alone with her flask of hot chocolate. All desire to find the mystery companion was gone.

 

She smelt the smoke as soon as she was on the roof. In 1957 smoking was commonplace but Delia utterly loathed the habit. A woman sat with her back to Delia, blonde hair fluffy around her shoulders like it had only just been released from an achingly right regulation ward hairstyle. The briefest thought about its potential softness danced across her mind almost too quickly to be acknowledged. Delia edged slowly closer to the girl (too safety minded to startle someone on a rooftop) and realised she was murmuring to herself. It was hard to catch what she was saying but Delia definitely heard 'I wish'.

 

"Are you wishing on a star?" Delia blurted out, sounding much more rude than it had in her head.

 

The blondes don't move her gaze as Delia sat down beside her. "Do you have a particular issue with that?"

 

"No." She hurriedly responded, noting that the other woman's tone practically dared her to question her. "Just...doesn't it feel silly for someone scientifically minded to be doing that? I mean, you're clearly a logical woman so you know it's not going to change anything."

 

The blonde turned to face Delia, allowing her to simultaneously find out that her name badge said 'Nurse Mount' and that she had clearly been crying.

 

"Not everything can be fixed. Sometimes it's just the feeling of something out there having the power to make it all better, even when it's obviously hopeless. Maybe you've just had a bit too much sunshine and rainbows to realise that."

 

Nurse Mount's words hung frostily in the air between them. Delia found herself cursing her big mouth for approximately the millionth time in twenty years as well as wanting to jump straight off the roof. She tried to avoid eye contact with Nurse Mount but at least she observed the ghost of a smile when Delia pushed a peace offering cup of hot chocolate towards her.

 

A tradition grew out of that chance encounter, in the way that they tend to do. Delia came up to the roof whenever she had a spare moment and hoped that Patsy would be there too. It took her a long time to break through her tough exterior and forge a friendship, but before long Delia was much more focused on her long conversations with the other nurse than watching the cityscape. They took to bringing blankets to sit on and accidentally lay side by side until sunrise. Their friendship took tentative steps into new territory ever so slowly until Delia seized a moment of madness, grabbing Patsy's face and pulling her into a rushed kiss that was almost immediately reciprocated.

 

"I wished on a star for that you know, Delia." Patsy smirked, knowing that she still found it a ridiculous habit.

 

*    *    *

 

"I'll take another vodka and lemonade please Cathy. A double."

 

The ageing bartender raised her eyebrows at Delia before sliding a bubbling glass towards her. She wasn't that much of a drinker but she finished it in one long gulp. Cathy leant over the bar and gently grasped her wrist, grey eyes widened with concern.

 

"I'm cutting you off Delia. Can I call you a taxi?"

 

Delia thought for a second about the embarrassment of showing up at Nonnatus House in a taxi. How would she explain if someone saw her? Where she had been, why she needed to drink? She figured that she could get away with it if only Phyllis noticed her returning from Gateways, but that wasn't a risk she was about to take.

 

"Don't worry about me. I need some air anyway." Delia rushed to her feet from the barstool, feeling Cathy's eyes on her back all the way to door.

 

As she stepped into the December air, Delia's breath instantly became a cloud of fog in front of her. She wasn't exactly sure where she was planning on going when she started walking but she managed to fetch up exactly where she needed to be. For the endless months Patsy had been in Hong Kong, Delia had been coming to the docks a couple of miles away from Poplar. On bicycle it wasn't far away but for Delia on foot it was just the right to distance to not feel the suffocation of Patsy's absence so acutely. She'd never been there with Patsy so it was slightly easier to forget that she was gone. A little wobblier than she had been before she started drinking, Delia sat on the frosty pavement and let her head fall back against the wall.

 

Patsy had been right the night they first met. Delia didn't know what it was like to feel truly hopeless. She had a perfect childhood, never questioning whether there would be a hot dinner on the table and whether her parents' love was anything but endless. She never experienced a great loss, hell the only funeral she'd ever been to was her great-auntie Gladys who smelt like cat litter and used to refer to Delia as 'that plain child'. When Patsy eventually tearfully told her that she began wishing on stars when she was locked up in a camp, surrounded by death and disease, Delia stopped teasing her about it. But she still hadn't personally understood that desperate need for something bigger to fix what seemed unfixable.

 

Until Patsy left. Not that Delia would ever try and compare 9 months of absence to the horrors Patsy had relayed to her. But she felt as if someone had ripped off her right arm and leg, a fair chunk of her heart, and whatever part of her brain made her really Delia. Not being able to really be understood by anyone else was eating her alive, slowly consuming everything she had. And it was exhausting, she was still constantly on edge thinking she saw Patsy on every street she walked down and hearing her voice every time it was quiet. Delia was starting to think that Patsy would be returning home to a shadow.

 

The best part of sitting at the docks was when boats would come in. They were usually cargo so Delia played games of figuring out what was in the mysterious boxes that men hurled out of the ships. Even more exciting were the occasional passenger ships that came in. It was her favourite form of escapism to imagine where the boat was had previously been and create stories for those she watched disembark. She was pleased that bright ginger hair wasn't especially common, Delia's heart leapt into her mouth every time she saw a flash of red and she was quite convinced that one day she would choke.

 

She saw that distant flame now as a ship started releasing its passengers, although it was very likely to be the alcohol playing tricks on her. Patsy had left from Liverpool so chances were that's where she would return. Delia wouldn't see her tonight. It was starting to feel like she'd never see her. She felt her gaze drift upwards, the night was surprisingly clear for London. One star in particular shone valiantly above all the rest. Delia knew what Patsy would be doing if she were in her position.

 

"Please bring her home." Her strangled voice sounded alien to her. "I wish Patience would get home soon."

 

It's all bullshit, she thought to herself. It was as if she'd slipped through her fingers entirely. How was a stupid star meant to help with that? Delia pressed her fists into her eyes, allowing a few tears to fall. She wasn't sure how long she stayed sat there but she heard the doors of the ship slam close. She heard the weary voices of men on the night shift checking passengers passports. She heard hundreds of pairs of feet falling into step on the path leading past where she sat. She heard one pair stop in front of her. She heard the most magical sound she could imagine.

 

"Deels?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on holiday without a laptop and I really haven't got the hang of using this on my phone, so if the format ends up looking weird I apologise :D


	12. Whispering On The Phone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes a simple phone call has been the only tangible connection between Patsy and Delia, through the bad and the good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I'm so sorry it's been so long, life has been hectic and I just couldn't get the words out. I hope you enjoy :)

"Are you a friend of mine?"

  
Patsy couldn't get those words out of her head, every time there was a moment of silence they would start screaming from the corner of her brain they were deeply wedged in. The way that the brunette had stared straight through her, eyes as wide as those stupid picnic plates from the flat floor that were still shoved under her bed. As she replayed the scene in her typically self-torturous manner she fought to keep Delia's name out of it. That wasn't her Delia, she was lost somewhere far inside that broken and bruised shell in the hospital bed. Patsy had no idea when or how Delia would find her way back out. Or even if she would. And then she had to question whether if she did come back, would Patsy even know?

  
As much as the thought of her girlfriend from a previous lifetime made her throat burn like the Johnnie Walker they used to share in the nurse's home, Patsy found a little solace in the fact it was a pain she could wrap up tightly and keep to herself. There was no virtue she held in higher esteem than privacy, so the fact that Sister Julienne stopped calling her into her office after a week and Barbara had stopped speaking only in hushed tones around her after a particularly venomous gaze was a blessing. Although she could occasionally feel Trixie's eyes trained on her when she was particularly caught up in her thoughts, her expertise in keeping a straight face helped her wrap up the feelings into a tight ball and press them deep down into her stomach. Between the mother's of Poplar, her Cubs and Trixie's gruelling aerobics schedule, Patsy was beginning to get through whole days where Delia didn't cross her mind until she was able to bury her face tightly in her pillow.

  
By November 1960 it had been nearly three months since Delia had been whisked away to Pembrokeshire, which may as well have been Timbuktu for the miles it felt. Patsy still woke up with a second of ignorance before the now familiar sensation of her limbs filling with lead, but she had settled into the feeling so entirely it almost felt comfortable. For the first time since everything had happened Patsy had found herself on phone duty. Thanks to her reputation for always being on the go and keen to be working, it was really quite rare she found herself manning the phone. On the odd occasions she had been scheduled to do so in previous weeks Patsy had managed to find some reason to avoid it. The others had been more inclined to let her more than she had been aware, as experienced nurses even the infamously opaque facade of Patience Mount was unable to hide such a deep hurt. But finally here she was, entirely alone with her thoughts. As she sipped a cup of strong black tea and flicked through the fashion magazine, goodness knows which one of many, that she had filched from Trixie's nightstand Patsy found the experience less painful than anticipated. Yes, she saw a little of Delia in every model as she did every stranger she saw and it made her pulse skip a step but her veins didn't feel quite as white hot as they did a couple of weeks ago.

  
And then the phone rang.

  
"Nonnatus House, midwife speaking." Patsy slipped easily into her familiar professional tone. "Can I help you?"

  
"Pats?"

  
Patsy's heart took a nosedive, as did the teacup in her hand. That voice. That nickname. She couldn't tell whether it had been a million years or twenty five minutes since she last heard it.

  
"Is that Patsy?"

  
The redhead tried to make a connection between her brain and her mouth. 'It's me. I'm here. I love you'. The words she had waited so long to say were right there for her but they failed to materialise. It was as if there was a ghost on the other end of the line. She swallowed hard.

  
"H-hello?" Patsy choked out. Only the faint buzz of dead air responded.

  
Delia had slipped through her fingers once again.

  
*   *   *

  
Patsy was furious. It coursed through her veins like fire, she hadn't felt so in danger of losing control since Delia's accident. How could she not have told her she was back? Patsy knew Delia had found a phone she could get to after her call last month, so why on earth would she have not let her know that she would be in London.   
When she had seen that small brunette figure in the maroon coat facing away from her, Patsy had felt her heart skip. But it was the same feeling she got whenever she heard a Welsh accent or talked to a mother with wide dark blue eyes that were close but didn't really have a patch on Delia's. Another thing to ignore. Another symptom of her private craziness. She fought herself to look away from the window, little James West was yelling from the back seat that he felt sick and Fred was yelling for someone to find him a bucket even louder. But she couldn't pull her eyes away from her. This was different. And when the girl turned round it really was her. Patsy knew that she had recognised her too, she had seen that sweet face in every expression imaginable. She held onto the eye contact whilst her mind raced at hundreds of miles an hour. Seeing Delia seemingly thriving filled her with a joy she couldn't describe, months of brain numbing worry seemed to melt away. However it was replaced with that gnawing question. Why hadn't she told her?

  
Back home she was just thankful for the fact that Trixie was no where to be seen. She could feel the firey pulse of her heart beating right under her skin begging her to spiral out. Why? Patsy asked herself over and over again. All she knew was that Delia had managed to get to a phone last month and yet she hadn't called her for this. She was trying to reason with herself, maybe she hadn't had chance to call or maybe she had but the message hadn't gotten to her. But she couldn't shake the feeling of anger. For months Patsy had been grieving the girl she thought she had lost forever, consumed by a pain she had to keep to herself. Now she was back and Patsy felt more alone than she ever had.

  
"Nurse Mount." Sister Julienne's caught up with Patsy as she walked to the kitchen. "There has just been a personal phone call for you from a cousin...Penelope I believe she said. She's waiting for you on the other end, please don't be too long you know we can't have the line busy when our mothers need us.

  
Patsy nodded and rushed to the phone. Penelope was the slightly older cousin on her father's side who cut the hair of Patsy's favourite dolls and picked on Patsy's older sister for her thick spectacles. They hadn't spoken since before the war so it was unlikely she possessed contact details for Patsy and even less likely that she would have the inclination to call. But she did remember that she had once told Delia about her when Delia had said she wanted a pet dog with the same name.

  
"Why didn't you call me?"

  
"Pats, I-"

  
Patsy's cheeks were burning, she had waited so long to talk to Delia but she couldn't stop the frustration pouring out of her. She had been editing out every single Delia related emotion from her life in front of everyone for months and now she could be candid with someone she didn't quite know how to stop herself.

  
"I've been waiting in London for months thinking you were gone for ever or worse, and yet you didn't think to call me when you were coming back? When were you going to tell me? Were you going to tell me? I feel like I just keep losing you every day. I don't know how to keep doing this." She could hear her words cracking and catching her breath was so hard.

  
"Pats." Patsy recognised that tone of voice, it was the one Delia had always used when Patsy was losing it. "Please don't talk so loud, the others will hear you."

  
Patsy sank into the chair beside her, allowing herself a few seconds to calm down.

  
"I'm sorry Deels, I don't-"

  
"I know, cariad. I know. I used the telephone box in the village last time but it broke a few weeks ago, and my mam hasn't let me out of her sight the entire time we've been here."

  
Patsy sighed, annoyed with herself that she had reacted as she did, as she always did.

  
"I just miss you, Delia."

  
"I miss you too, darling." Patsy heard her voice drop slightly on the final word. "My mam's going to see Aunt Blod for a few hours later and I told her I was meeting some girls from the hospital. Can you meet me in the cafe?"

  
"Of course I can." Patsy cupped her hand over mouth and whispered. "I love you."

  
*    *    *

  
"Quickly, Deels, I have to leave for clinic in 5 minutes."

  
Patsy loved the other woman dearly but goodness knows her tendency to enjoy a dramatic build up before revealing news could be tiresome at times.

  
"I'm coming back to London!" The welshwoman's smile lifted the tone of the words.

  
It was everything she had waited for for so long, six months and three weeks and four days to be exact. Delia back in her orbit, not in some faraway village out of her reach. Patsy had to bite her lip to conceal her excitement.

  
"There's only one thing." Patsy hadn't realised she hadn't replied until she heard Delia's reluctant words. "My mam's coming up with me and I really don't know how I'm ever going to convince her to go back to Pembrokeshire."

  
The delightful Mrs Busby. Throughout her and Delia's years of 'friendship' she had butted heads with the formidable woman more than she cared confess, in fact they had exchanged a couple of curtly annoyed letters whilst Delia was in Wales that she was quite certain her girlfriend had no idea about. If anyone could throw a spanner in the works of Delia's return it was her mother.

  
"Patsy. What are you thinking about?"

  
Delia sounded almost nervous, last time they had been on the phone Patsy remembered she had berated the poor woman for no real reason and yet here she was again making something good into something bad. Delia was healthy enough to be back in London and Patsy would be able to see her again for the first time since that brief encounter in the cafe where the redhead knew she had been unnecessarily gloomy. Why would she let herself be down over a little thing?

  
"I can't wait, Deels. When are you coming?"

  
There was a sound a lot like Delia stifling a giggle. "Friday." It was Wednesday, Patsy had rather hoped a bump to Delia's head might have knocked in an ability to organise in but alas it appeared not.

  
"I'm proud of how far you've come you know, Delia." Patsy felt her cheeks growing a little hot, even though everyone was getting ready for clinic she felt as if all eyes in Nonnatus were on her.

  
"I knew you were waiting for me Pats." Delia's coy whisper send goosebumps down Patsy's arms.

  
"Nurse Mount. Clinic starts in 20 minutes I do hope you're ready to leave." Sister Julienne snapped Patsy out of her dreamy mood as she hurriedly said her goodbyes to Delia.

  
"Sorry, Sister. I'm absolutely prepared to go."

  
The elderly nun looked her up and down, noting to herself that the talented nurse looked almost as bright eyed as she did before her ever so polite young friend had that dreadful accident. "May I inquire about your phone call, Nurse. I don't wish to intrude."

  
Patsy allowed herself to smile broadly. "My friend Delia's coming back to London soon, it's been such an awfully time she's been gone."

  
"That's wonderful news Patience." Sister Julienne grasped Patsy's arm gently after a rare use of her first name. "Perhaps she could visit for lunch, I'm sure the other girls would love to see her."

  
Patsy's mind immediately went to the cynicism of imagining the other woman's reaction if she knew the nature of their relationship, but was immediately overwhelmed with the feeling that was the closest she figured she would ever get to acceptance. Delia was going to be back and she wasn't letting anything burst that bubble.

  
*    *    *

  
It had taken Delia so long to get used to the feeling of being on a bicycle again after her accident that she had felt for a while like she was going to be running to the hospital every shift for the rest of her career. Once she had decided to properly begin training as a midwife Trixie had insisted on accompanying her on long bike rides around Poplar until she no longer heard the squeal of breaks every time she turned a corner. By 1966 those young children who would run beside them where starting secondary school, and the panic attacks she managed to hide from everyone besides Trixie were a distant memory. Now she had started to enjoy the feeling of freedom as she zoomed from Nonnatus to the clinic to her mothers' homes to her own home.

  
As had become a habit since they moved into their flat in 1964, Delia stopped her bicycle outside a telephone box. Patsy would never admit it to her but Delia knew she still remembered the day that she hadn't come home to her and hearing she was on her way home when she was working late kept her sane.

  
"Hello, darling."

 

"How was work sweetheart?"

  
An empty street and an empty flat allowed them to be unrestrained in their affections, something they were hardly used to after 2 years

 

"Twin boys for Mrs Hossack, complication free thank goodness."

  
"I'll cook you something extraordinary when you get home. Beans on toast, sound alright?" Patsy had yet to reveal herself as a domestic goddess.

  
"I can't wait. I'll be home in ten minutes."

  
"Home." Patsy loved that word, Delia knew. "I love you."

  
Delia smiled into the probably filthy receiver and whispered into the phone. "I love you too."

  
Clambering back onto her bicycle under the stars, Delia couldn't help think about how far life had come. It wasn't perfect but it never had been. It was just her and Patsy muddling through, and that was all she really needed.


	13. Your Kiss When We're Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delia compares her experience of kissing a boy vs a girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, sorry about my general disappearance. I've been trying to focus on uni and it's sort of led to the neglect of this.

Delia could vividly remember her first real kiss. She had been sixteen and on her way home from the grocers when she had spotted her floppy haired best friend Robin Kirby leaning against the wall at the bottom of her lane, coat pulled tight against the late December chill. The sky was blackening with the threat of snowfall, her mother had urged her to hurry back with the brussels sprouts, but Delia always had a moment for her lanky friend.

"My mam sent me out for bacon, you wouldn't believe how much my cousins have got through." Robin ran his fingers through his long curls, the boy was a renowned fidget.

"I hope she's not expecting it for her tea anytime soon, Rob, there's not much of butchers operating at the bottom of my garden."

Robin rolled his eyes and nudged Delia. "Don't be daft, D. I brought your Christmas present."

He pressed something wrapped in floral kitchen roll into Delia's palm, watching her unwrap a generous hunk of Mrs Kirby's homemade honey walnut cake. She'd been hooked on the stuff since she'd been old enough to sit on her kitchen counter and lick the spoon.

Robin’s hands were back on his scalp, cheeks tinged pink now. “That’s from my mam though, I wanted to give you something else.”

Awkwardly, the young lad pulled Delia towards him and into a kiss. She stood slightly shell shocked, willing her brain to figure out what exactly she was supposed to be doing with her lips, or maybe her tongue, or at the very least her hands which were hanging lamely by her sides with the brown paper bag of sprouts still tucked in the crook of her right elbow. Just as she was wondering how long this kissing malarkey was supposed to last, a sharp rap on the window behind send Robin springing away from her.

“Well, merry Christmas D.” The blonde scarpered, spotting Mr Busby leaning against the living room windowsill.

“Merry Christmas, Rob.” Delia whispered bemusedly at the empty space.

When she returned to her warm cottage, her mother fussed round her, beaming that she’d always known that ‘young Robin’ would be Delia’s ‘fancy fellow’ one day. Her father was threatening to have his guts for garters if he took a step out of line, but was secretly quite pleased that a kind, bright lad from a nice respectable family was interested in his shy only daughter. Delia felt her cheeks burning and brought out the precious cake to distract her parents’ interest, if only for five minutes. Her head was spinning, Robin was a renowned heartthrob that her female friends had been encouraging her to flirt with him for what seemed like years. She should’ve been thrilled but mostly she just felt confused and a little bit sick.

On the advice of her friends and to the delight of her mam, Delia did end up going steady with Robin until two years later when she left for nursing school and he was accepted into art college in Cardiff. Until the last three months of their relationship, Delia had tried to understand the appeal of the kissing. The other girls gushed about the experience as if it was the most magical activity available, yet Delia just found it wet and uncomfortable, and overall preferred her nights spent with Rob camped out in the fields playing rummy and drinking illicit cider. Eventually, Robin confessed through sobs the affair he’d been having with Derec, a local handyman a couple of years older than the pair who had worked weekends in Mr Busby’s shop as a schoolboy. Delia knew Rob had expected her to freak out, call him a pervert, run straight to his mam. At the very least he hadn’t expected her to shrug, almost relieved, and reveal a very similar affliction all of her own. The final weeks of their time in Pembrokeshire were spent in the den they had in the woods created as kid, drinking and talking about the future. Robin spoke for hours about how he was going to paint along the shores of the Seine, far far away from Wales. Delia was never really that convinced anyone from their village would ever be anywhere quite so glamourous, until her second year of training when she received a thick envelope in familiar calligraphy, containing a gorgeous painting of a lithe Mediterranean looking man in front of the Eiffel Tower that Rob labelled simply, ‘Luca’.

 

*   *   *

On those nights with Robin, Delia had almost been able to convince herself that she wasn’t alone. It was okay for her to like girls when she was with him because, who was he to judge? And besides, he got it. He knew what it was like to feel wrong, to feel like he would never be worthy of love. He knew what it felt like to know his parents would despise what he really was, and he had lived with the deep-seated fear of everything he had worked for collapsing around him if somebody found out. Well, she assumed he must have felt that somewhere. After his initial confession, the way that Robin talked made it seem like being _that way inclined_ gave the impression that it was the most normal thing in the world. Now she was in the real world she felt like ‘queer’ was tattooed on her forehead and that every girl she interacted with could feel it radiating from her. She knew that everything was at stake if anyone identified her.

Cheerful, loving Delia forced herself into submission. She obsessed over little rules she made for herself to avoid detection: never be alone with a girl behind closed doors, try and avoid prolonged eye contact, always think through a compliment- could it be considered too much? It was worth the paranoia and the isolation if she could hang on to her nursing career and her reputation. Delia recited her rules to herself every morning and found herself increasingly relying on them to get through her days at nursing school, they were more important to her than her patient stats and the endless facts she’d memorised for her exams. Until a tall blonde stepped over to her one day and she forgot everything.

“Hello, Nurse Busby.” The blonde’s accent was as clipped and polished as her general appearance, Delia had no idea how she knew her name because she only vaguely recognised her as the girl on the other hospital experience rota to her “This is frightfully embarrassing, but I’ve lost my notes for Professor Collins’ anatomy exam. I’ve heard you’re a good go-to-girl for notes, I’ll make it worth your while with chocolate?”

Delia had to bite down hard on her lip to prevent herself from replying, ‘Hi, I’m Delia and I like women. Any chance you’d be interested in popping into that broom cupboard for a cheeky snog?’

A second too long later, Delia had composed herself a little although she could feel fire burning all the way up her face. “Yeah, I have the notes, I finish at 6 if you want to come by. Room 45 in the Seacole block.” Delia could hear the slightest shake in her voice, praying it wasn’t detectable to the other nurse.

The blonde nurse’s face stretched into a half smile. “Thank you, I’ll be there. It’s Patsy Mount, by the way” As her regulation heels clicked away from Delia, she realised she was absolutely fucked.

With nurse-like punctuality, when Delia returned from her day on the ward at seventeen minutes past six Patsy was leaning against her door, glancing down at her watch. Her hair was loose now, hanging around her clearly very expensive purple satin shirt. Delia had no idea how she managed to get her key into the door after only three attempts. Patsy followed her into the room, pushing the door closed behind her. That was rule number one out the window. Delia couldn’t help but notice the bemused eye brow raise from Patsy as she glanced around Delia’s dishevelled room, she cursed herself for not bothering to tidy up occasionally. But no one ever came in so what was ever the point?

“I’m pretty sure the notes are on my desk somewhere.” Delia managed a nervous laugh as she shuffled through stacks of paper. “Oh, here they are.”

Delia tentatively joined Patsy where she was sat on her bed. She hoped Patsy would leave now that she had the notes, but she was also somehow desperate for her to find an excuse to stay.

Patsy seemed to feel the same way. “Maybe we could study together?” There was a slight crack in her perfect exterior, although maybe that was Delia being foolish with hope. “I’ve got a bottle of Scotch in my room, I could grab it and we could make a night of it?”

Delia locked eyes with Patsy, trying to figure out what her game was. She hadn’t really socialised with other girls since she was 17 so Delia figured that getting drunk over anatomy notes with a friendly girl was a normal way to spend a night, she just hadn’t experienced it because she was so busy trying to repel women. Besides, Delia was finding it hard to break eye contact with Patsy, and the longer she held her gaze the harder it was becoming to think of reasons why she should say no.

“That sounds like a plan.” Delia said, a little hesitantly. She thought for a second. Screw it, she’d been breaking all her other rules with Patsy. “I like your hair like that, by the way.”

 

*   *   *

Delia was beginning to remember why she hadn’t drank since those nights hanging out with Robin. A notorious lightweight, neat spirits was hardly something that went hand in hand with smart choices. She was aware she shouldn’t be getting drunk with a girl she hardly knew, a quietly sober part of her brain was screaming about rules and reputation, but she felt comfortable with Patsy in a way that actually reminded her of Robin. It was that quiet confidence, the poise, the deeper levels of ‘fuck you’ that seem to reside beneath the exterior. And goodness knew, she bloody missed Rob. She missed friends, full stop. It was only once she had released herself a little bit that Delia had noticed how lonely living in London for the previous year.

“And then I said to the patient, you’ve got chronic haemorrhoids and I’m a hell of a lot closer to being a qualified nurse than you are.” Patsy collapsed into giggles, finishing an anecdote that Delia wasn’t quite sure was as funny as the other girl felt, but it was nice to listen to her speak.

As drunk as she was, Delia was increasingly aware of the fact that Patsy was starting to catch her up. Her cobalt eyes were twinkling with mischievous energy and that perfectly pronounced accent was starting to slur around its neatly rounded edges. They had moved so that they both sat with their backs against the headboard, although Delia was still aware of herself enough to ensure there was a several inches gap between them. Patsy was making that quite difficult, in all fairness, as every now and again she would edge a little closer to Delia.

“I didn’t lose my anatomy notes, you know Delia.” Patsy suddenly announced, stretching out the e sound much longer than strictly speaking necessary, and pouting slightly “I just wasn’t sure how to actually get your attention, you’re so hard to get hold of.”

Delia couldn’t meet Patsy’s gaze for a moment, she was aware that she must come off as aloof, but hearing it out loud twisted her up inside.

“You’re so nice,” Patsy continued. “Why don’t you let people be nice to you?”

Alarm bells were starting to go off in Delia’s head, she couldn’t get into that conversation, there was too much at stake. She started to shuffle off the edge of the bed.

“You wouldn’t understand, Patsy. I can’t explain.”

Patsy caught hold of Delia’s elbow, hand burning hot. Her eyes were set deeply on Delia but her Dutch courage was definitely trembling in her quietening voice. “I think I might understand, actually.”

Delia took a gamble, closing the gap between her and Patsy so she could feel the heat of her side against hers. Surely it couldn’t be happening.

“You think you do?” Delia couldn’t bring herself to speak incriminating words, but she was pretty sure Patsy could hear her pulse slamming against her skin.

Patsy swallowed hard, wrapping her fingers around each other. Delia figured that was to quell shaking. “I think, maybe, you look at other women the same way I do.” The end of the sentence came out in a gasping rush, as if Patsy wanted the opportunity to swallow the words back and tuck them safely back inside.

Delia nodded quickly, not wanting Patsy to have a moment to second guess herself. She grabbed Patsy hands that were still locked together, seizing upon a second of bravery. “I never thought I’d find someone else here.” She admitted, shyly.

After what could have been a few seconds or a few lifetimes, Patsy reclaimed one of her hands and clasped it against Delia’s cheek. She involuntarily clenched her jaw against the contact, her brain momentarily unsure what to make of the touch. Patsy gently dragged the tip of her thumb against her bottom lip.

“Patsy.” Delia breathed, forcing out the words. “Are you sure that’s what you want? You’re drunk.”

Patsy smirked impishly. “And you’re more drunk, darling. When will we next be alone? What an opportunity to pass up, I’ve never kissed a girl before. Or anyone, now I think about it.”

Delia shrugged, managing not to wonder aloud how a girl who looked like Patsy could have never been kissed. “I suppose it can’t be so different from kissing a boy, I’ve done that.” She was lying of course, she silently admitted to being more aroused by Patsy’s fingertips brushing against her face than her steamiest evenings with Robin.

“Ew.” Patsy scrunched up her face in mock disgust. “Don’t talk about boys when _I_ want your kiss.”

Delia ran her fingers through Patsy’s hair and settled her hand on the back of her head. Far too much talking. She gently pulled Patsy towards her, overly conscious of where her nose was going as she softly caught Patsy’s lips against her own. Patsy responded more enthusiastically than Delia had anticipated, almost knocking the Welsh girl straight off her own bed. They slowly fell into rhythm, hands moving as if they wanted to read every inch of skin on the other woman. Delia noted the definite taste of liquor on Patsy’s tongue and she assumed the same of herself. She allowed herself just for one second to cast her mind back to Robin, as much as she knew Patsy probably would have swiftly kicked her. Kissing Patsy felt like a moment of immense understanding when she compared it to her past experiencing, this was what she was willing to risk everything for. She knew Patsy must feel the same way, she kissed with a longing that was so familiar. Patsy was the soft curves to Rob’s hard edges, the warmth to his constant coldness, and that unmistakably different taste on her lips that Delia put down to femaleness. Delia allowed her hand to wander, grasping Patsy’s thigh. She pushed any further thoughts of Robin out of her head with ease, Delia intended to enjoy her evening thoroughly and without any further intrusion.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've just realised I only write Patsy and Delia kissing when they're drunk and I'm also slightly drunk. Maybe I'm repressed


	14. The Way You Thrill My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally a trip to Paris!

The smile hadn’t left Delia’s face all day, her girlfriend was quite certain. Patsy was familiar with Paris, she had been taken a number of times as a girl but watching Delia (who had never left the country before) was like discovering it through a new pair of eyes. She had been worried that being here would hurt, remind her of childhood trips that could never be recreated, but with Delia it was like a completely new place. But that was Delia, she figured, somehow managing to make the ordinary into the intoxicating.

Patsy slipped her arm through Delia’s, an almost uncharacteristically bold move but people here seemed to be stood closer together than they were in London anyway. Besides, no one here knew them. They wandered through the broad streets, inhaling the enchantingly savoury scents drifting out of restaurants they passed. Every single one seemed to fit just perfectly into what anyone’s mind would conjure up at the thought of Paris. They didn’t really know the route they ought to be following but as expected, eventually the iconic tower loomed before them.

The moment that they had decided that they were definitely going on their Paris trip, the first thing Delia had decided she wanted to do was go up the Eiffel Tower.

“I used to dream about it Pats.” She would often say, a hint of wistfulness in her tone. “When I was recovering I used to think about getting to look across the whole of Paris with you.”

Of course, the minute Patsy had heard that she had been on the phone, using family connections to secure a pair of tickets. The fact she was petrified of heights was at the back of her mind when she saw Delia jump up with glee when she shared the good news. Although she had to admit, with every single step she took she was remembering that fact just a little bit more. By the time they reached the top she was certain she must be quite green.

Delia immediately walked to the edge, wind whipping strands of hair out of that tightly wound bun. As she leant over, Patsy felt her heart skip a beat and contented herself with standing in the centre, taking a couple of photos of Delia on the camera looped around her neck.

“Come on!” Delia called, coming across.

Her voice lowered when she saw Patsy’s face.

“You don’t like heights do you?”

Patsy glanced at the floor, allowing herself to shake her head slightly.

Delia grasped her hand, people were distracted enough by their surroundings for it to hardly matter. “Let me show you something amazing.”

As much as she wanted to keep her feet firmly planted somewhere safe when Delia’s eyes met hers she would’ve followed that woman to the edge of the earth. She kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut as she felt her toes hit the fence, heart in her mouth.

“Open your eyes.” Delia whispered, her hand still tightly wrapped around Patsy’s.

Patsy focused on the sensation of Delia rubbing her thumb across the back of her hand as she forced her eyes open. Paris sprawled before her, her love was next to her. She felt as if she was flying. They had timed their visit perfectly, as the sun was dipping below the horizon Her racing heart slowed and the world stopped. Perfect.

*   *   *

 “Deels, we’ll have to hurry if we’re going to make it to _Le Vignoble_ in time for our reservation.”

“Have some patience, Patience.” Delia called back from the bathroom, laughing far too much at a joke she had made a million times before.

Patsy kept one eye fixed on her mirror as she threaded her second emerald earring into her ear. She was trying to stay calm but lateness had a knack of setting her mind on edge and Delia was notoriously for being late. Frustration crept through her fingers, tapping them on her thigh in an effort to prevent herself from indulging in the objectively worse habit of chewing her nails. Her day had been magical, so Patsy didn’t quite understand where the undertone of anxious energy had emerged from. But it was there, quickening her pulse almost unnoticeably but enough to make her skin crawl.

She felt the bed dip next to her but didn’t look up as Delia spoke. “Sorry, babe. You know what I’m like when I can’t decide what to wear”

“We’re here for all of three days, how many options could you have possibly brought? Patsy fought to maintain a tone of exasperation but couldn’t help a smile.

“You really don’t want to ask me that.”

Delia placed her hand over Patsy’s tapping fingers, using the other to gently lift her girlfriend’s head upwards. Even if Patsy had wanted to question Delia’s packing choices she wouldn’t have quite been able to once she caught sight of her. Delia’s dress sparkled a deep sea blue, a number that had been specifically purchased for the trip, and her eyelids were brushed with a similar hue. Her hair was loose around her shoulders in the way Patsy adored to run her fingers through.

“Delia you look incredible.” Patsy finally managed to get her brain to connect to her mouth after what was probably embarrassingly too long.

A blush spread across the brunette’s face, squeezing her girlfriend’s hand.

“I know you’re worrying about something

It was Patsy’s turn to blush but for a different reason, shrugging well. “Just having one of those moments, Deels.” It had been five years and she still felt silly admitting to Delia when she was feeling like this. Heart pounding for no reason. Thoughts rushing at a million miles an hour.

Delia said nothing, resting her head on the Patsy’s shoulder. There was something calming about knowing that no one was about to walk through a door and accuse them of indecency or yell at them to rush to a mother in labour. Just the pair of them side by side, no interruptions. Delia’s hand slid to Patsy’s back and began rubbing slow circles as she so often did when this feeling struck her.

“Did you come to Paris when you were a little girl?” Delia’s voice was lower than it necessarily needed to be.

“My father had business links with a firm here and my mother used to make sure he would be the one to be sent out here, we used to come at least once a year. Goodness, Martha’s middle name was even Paris my parents were so utterly in love with the place. I remember it like it was yesterday.”

Patsy could feel Delia’s eyes trained on her, knowing it was because she absolutely never spoke about her family. But now she’d started the words were tumbling out before she could stop them.

“The work kept my father busy all day so my mother would take me and Martha out around the city. The best times were when we’d take a picnic and walk down along the Seine, Martha would make me repeat French phrases back to her. The languages teacher at our school was extremely disappointed I didn’t take after her favourite student.” Patsy took a moment to laugh fondly. “My father would come back to the hotel with a little box of macarons every evening, vanilla for my mother, chocolate for Martha and strawberry for me. He’d grin, call us his _belles filles_ and take us all out for dinner. I think my parents were at their happiest here.”

She hadn’t realised she was crying until Delia brushed away a tear. “I’m sorry I asked you, Patience.” Delia’s eyes were shining as if she was trying not to cry herself.

“Don’t be sorry, it was nice to be back there for a minute.”

Patsy realised her heart was no longer pounding, her mind was still. She often heard Trixie talking about how she wanted to find herself a man who was full of surprises, kept her on her toes, thrilled her heart. There had been quite enough surprises in her first ten years to last Patsy for the rest of her life. Delia was soothing, softness and warmth. Delia calmed her heart.

“I think we’ve missed our reservation, Pats.” Delia glanced down at her watch.

“We’ve got two more evenings here. Besides, there’s two packets of Walkers in my suitcase.” Patsy gave a coy smile. “I’m sure we could find something else to do with our night.”

Patsy had already been pushed backwards onto the bed with Delia’s lips pressed against her jaw before she even had the chance to suggest they played a game of Blackjack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do we know Patsy's sisters name? If anyone fancies letting me know it in the comments that would be awesome.


End file.
